Where I Stand
by wurd-god
Summary: She spent her entire life following orders from her father and her brothers but what happens the moment she finally starts to stand for herself? Begins mid-season 2, Sisterfic! *Retired*
1. We Wrote Our Names In Blood

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Things will start picking up in the coming chapters, thanks!_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter One**

**We wrote our names in blood**

I'm a coward and I always knew deep down that I was never strong enough to stand and fight for what I believed in. Sure, I fought; I fought many things that came from the dark and should never have existed. But I never fought like my brother Sam; he fought for what he believed in and accepted the consequences in a stride. My father was constantly fighting if not with evil then with people, though I don't think it was on purpose; he was just a strong character. Even Dean, my oldest brother fought, the same one who was more loyal to Dad then monks were to their God. He was lucky too in his own hellish way, in society he rebelled every chance he got and somehow came to love the consequences that he reaped from his ways.

I simply took things inside myself, it was my way; I accepted them and never even had the courage to allow myself to think of rebelling. Sure, I would have loved to leave like Sam, though school didn't appeal to me, I knew there was something more than hunting and I wanted to taste that. Whenever I had a defiant look in my eyes my Dad would shake his head and blame it on my age, my stupid, stupid age. _You're young,_ he would say and somehow being young meant stupid to him. Though I wasn't young to me, in fact I felt like there was someone watching me with a stopwatch and timing me. Telling me I only had a certain amount of time left and I was going nowhere with my life; that I would never live up to my father's expectations or my family's.

In truth, I never belonged with anyone, just on my own. I used to spend hours in front of the mirror, pulling at my silken, black long hair, wishing it would magically turn a light golden brown or that my dark eyes would turn a light hazel or green; more like my brothers, I would chant. More like them and maybe then my Dad would somehow look at me and see me for his child, not just another hindrance. But instead, I knew whenever he would glance my way he would be bombarded with a string of unwelcome feelings. I was a constant reminder to him of his mistakes, the time he stopped in town and met a woman, let her fall in love and then pick up his bags and leave. I later found out that he had left Sam and Dean in the motel while he was with my mother and somehow I disliked him more for that than when he would snap at me. I knew I was unwelcome, my mother had tried her best but still she wasn't strong enough and had broken down, phoning Dad and telling him what he knew deep down.

I don't really remember much of her, I knew she had jumped from a bridge the night Dad came but where were all the pleasant memories and smiles that should have existed? Instead I remember disappointment and desolation when I realized I didn't belong with her. That she didn't want me. Dad had tried though, the first moment he had stepped into the house and taken one look at me, he told her roughly to leave so he could talk to me. I was five then and I couldn't help but be enamored by his roughness, but still he was gentle. He smelled of leather and what I later knew to be gunpowder, his leather jacket, a new sensation under my child fingers.

He quietly ordered me to sit on the couch and watch my cartoons whilst he had went to find her, I vaguely heard shouting but I was too in love with this new stranger to really worry about a woman that made sure to mean nothing to me, to care. He whisked me away minutes later, slipping me in a beautifully sleek car, telling me not to worry; that he would take me somewhere safe. I wasn't worried, I knew then that he was right, wherever he was, I would be safe. I didn't understand the circumstances of what would ensue, but I knew I felt more alive with him than I had ever felt with her. He had driven in silence, something I had enjoyed and rarely had the opportunity with her to taste.

He had pulled up to a motel, and by the time he had parked, I was rearing to follow closely at his heels. He smirked down at me then and a new sensation flooded me, it was nice and I had to make sure to do something that would get him to look at me like that again. I didn't speak once, I was never the kind of child with the need to fill silences, and I loved them as a child and still do. I revel in them and find I am at my best when there is a calm quiet to the air. He had knocked quietly but firmly on a motel door before opening it, something I thought nothing of, but now know it was his signature to alert the watchdog Dean that it was truly him.

I met them then. With Sam slouched on the couch, staring off into the television show, his eight year-old self too busy with the show to care about his father's arrival. It didn't bother me, up until that point I was never really around other children, let alone ones that were bigger than I was.

It was then that Dean, in his awkward thirteen year-old body had marched over to Dad and quizzed him about his every move and action. Dad had glared down at him and told him they'd discuss things later, it wasn't until I was older that I realized he was trying to cushion me from their reality. But Dad had left me there with them, slamming shut the motel door behind him; Sam had glanced over in my direction then, tearing his attention from the television to investigate the noise.

I was nervous and scared, wringing my young hands around my pink t-shirt. With wide doe eyes I glanced between the brothers, not realizing that they were mine now and I was theirs. I stared at Dean and he stared back, both of us not understanding what we should do about the other one.

Sam was the one that came to my rescue, leaving the blaring television behind, shuffling towards me. He extended his hand and smiled down at me, "I'm Sam."

I bit my lip and let my hair cover my reddening face, "Hi."

"You know if you keep biting your lip like that, one day you're going to bit it off." He dictated.

I glanced up in shock then, letting my bottom lip pop free from my gnawing teeth, "Really?"

"No, he's just being dumb." Dean walked up to us, and studied me, "What's your name?"

"Mirabella Natalie Larose Cole." I huffed, silently pleased with myself that I got my full name correct.

Sam's eyes widened, "That's so long."

"Sam." Dean reproached. "How old are you Mirabella?"

I bit my lip but released it, afraid I would bite it off, "Five."

"So why are you here, Mira?" Sam asked.

I shrugged but before I could respond my stomach let out a huge growl. My cheeks reddened and I looked down at my feet, afraid they were going to yell at me like she would whenever I made too much noise.

Sam laughed; reaching down to my side he grabbed my hand and pulled me along to the motel room's kitchen table, "C'mon, we have leftover pizza."

"Pizza?" I asked, liking the way the new word felt on my tongue.

Dad had come back late into the night; Sam had fallen asleep on the couch beside me, Dean was using the bathroom and I realized I missed Dad. I scooted off the couch and without thinking I went to him, burying my head in his rain soaked jacket when he bent down to pick me up. I never asked if I was going home, I didn't really want to go and I knew he never planned on giving me back when he saw the madness in my mother's eyes.

_You're stuck with us now, Kiddo, _he had hoarsely whispered to me. He held me, letting the calm comfort roll into me. It was the first time and one of the last that I was allowed to fall asleep in his arms.

Life fell into a normal resemblance after that. Dad leaving us alone most of the time to do his salesman duties; another lie that I later found out to be hunting. I didn't mind though, I was with my two new brothers, Dean with his surly teenage attitude towards everyone and everything but with me and Sam with his constant comfort. I would spend days sitting on Dean's lap, curling myself around him and the nights I would curl up on Sam's lap playing with his hair. They were mine and I would fight before they could be taken away from me.

I look back now at those times and wish we could go back, to simpler ways; when our future wasn't looking so bleak and desperation never even existed. When Dad would decide for us and we were too naïve and young to think anything of it. Sure, we had our flaws, but we were family and we had to stick together. Blood was thicker than water and even though we were young, we knew it. I just wish that we didn't forget it.


	2. Mama Always Said

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Thank you to all of the reviewers, favorites or alerts; it means a lot to me!_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Two**

**Mama always said there'd be days like this**

It had been a good while since Dad had died. The days and months seemed to blur by with a vague sense of déjà vu but I was too lost within myself at first to really care. I missed him, I missed them all but I couldn't go back, it was a little too late.

It had been my decision when I was fourteen to leave what was going to be left of the family; Sam had been accepted to Sanford a month before my fifteenth birthday but held off on telling anyone lest he ruined my day a month away. I don't know how long he planned on holding back but I found out two weeks before my day, searching in his duffel for my chocolate bar he had stole. He was going to leave two days before my birthday, leaving me with my Dad and Dean.

It's not like I didn't get along with Dean and Dad but I found with every day passing, I was getting more embittered about everything. Sam was going to be turning nineteen in May and shouldn't leave us, Dean had said; though Dean at twenty-two was far less mature than Sam was at the time. Looking back now, I realize I just needed space like any other teenager and blamed everyone else when I should have been looking at myself instead.

I missed them fiercely the weeks after I left, though I knew they were occupying their time trying to keep from missing Sam and I. The night before I left, Sam was shopping for a few odds and ends; Dean and Dad were out hunting, leaving me alone with my cabin fever. I was more upset by the minute and though I once alluded to leaving, everyone in the family never believed me. I was turning fifteen, what I thought was a new era for me. I was going to be treated like an adult and hell, I knew everything there was to know about everything, I thought, pacing angrily wearing the carpet thin. I wanted to start hunting alone; I was never even allowed to look at a boy, for goodness sakes'! I wanted freedom and leaving the ones I dearly loved behind meant nothing to me then. I never realized that at any moment one of us could die and losing them was like losing myself in actuality.

I regret leaving them, though I bet Sam was moving forward, I felt like I was falling behind the first few months. But as time passed, I learned to do things on my own; like hunting or trusting my instincts with my life. Though stitching myself up at first was painful and horrible enough, I wished then that I could hold onto one of my brothers like I used to. It was hard living in an adult world when one is only fifteen, but I learned quickly to think on my feet and somehow make myself seem older than I really was.

Sometimes people live too deep within themselves and forget how to speak and interact with the outside world and that's where I found myself. On the fringe, living but not really alive, breathing only because I had to. Just passing the muster until the next couple of miles where I could hunt something and it'd help me feel something more than this. It was a dangerous and cathartic cycle but it worked.

My eighteenth birthday was coming up and I still couldn't shake the shock off of me. I somehow survived this entire while without the people I thought I couldn't live without but I did. A part of me was proud at what I had survived; hunting, playing doctor to myself, pretending to be older than I really was. But whenever I felt the joy of independence, I would immediately feel the sting of practicality, of reality sinking in. What had I lost? I lost my father and probably my bothers now too. Though they weren't dead; me leaving them at the tender age of fourteen with a small little note and gift to each one would surely kill any remaining love for me.

As each day passed, keeping myself company, I started missing Dad more and more. I remember the night I found out he was gone, I was already beside myself in angst, worrying pitifully about my family. Dean in critical condition, Sam with a few wounds and Dad in light coma. When I left, I made sure to keep in contact with Bobby, he hated me for lying to my family but he understood my need to prove myself worthy to…well, to me. So I would phone him every week asking anxiously about my family and in a way I tried to leave them, I had never really let go of them. I was an addict and I didn't even realize it.

Bobby had said they were driving and were T-boned by a large truck, I immediately started throwing my things into my duffel and booked a bus ticket to their location. But I was across the country and by the time I was a few states over, Dad was already dead and Dean and Sam had begun hunting together again. I stayed in my motel room and cried for days. I cried for my Dad, my mom and my brothers. For my childhood of hopes and dreams, trying to ignore the bleak future for us all without a great hunter. But by the time I left my room, I was seething with rage and killed everything and anything in my path; I even snuck in a few bars just to start some fights. It seemed I was bitten by this bug that filled me with insatiable rage and emptiness; no amount of living could ever make me feel like I used to and I would push myself to dangerous limits just to feel something.

I was at a point in my life where I couldn't look in the mirror without feeling pain inside at what I had done to everyone I loved, nor could I even remember the last time I truly felt happy. With my birthday coming, a sore subject for me already, I was ready to start a new case. Every year on my birthday I would buy myself an overtly lavish ice cream cone and go out hunting. I couldn't stand being alone with myself anymore nor did I have the courage to find my brothers. It sounded easy, phone Bobby, locate them and bam, a loving family reunion. But it wasn't. Since I had left, I changed everything and anything about me, I only used Cole; my mother's maiden name, my hair was now shoulder length as opposed to mid back and I had gotten rid of my cell phone and any traces of…me. When I was that young, I had wanted to disappear and being the daughter of a great hunter had taught me tangible things. Plus, I doubted my brothers would ever forgive me, especially for not being there when they had needed me most. But I was starting to think; did they really need me? Did they even miss me? Or was I dead, just like Dad?

I pushed myself away from my motel room's kitchen table, sighing when the chair fell. I bent and picked it up, why was everything such a chore to me? I was seventeen going on eighteen yet I felt like I was turning seventy. I heard my cell ring and answered it, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Ever since the bad news about my father, I still got nervous when I heard a phone ring.

"Hello?" I heard a chuckle and smiled despite my sour mood, "Hey Bobby."

"Hey girl, how's the case coming?"

"I don't know Bobby…I think I'm out of my league on this one. I mean, an architect jumping to his death…from a building he designed? Not only does that sound too amusing to be taken seriously…I just…" I sighed, not knowing where I was going with this.

"What's wrong? Normally you don't complain like a little girl…Cole, maybe you should sit this one out. You're birthday is coming up—"

"Not for another few weeks, March twenty-third Bobby. It's only the first today." I roughly ran my hand through my hair, trying to vent some frustration.

"Don't you think you'd like to go on vacation?" Bobby asked, what was he up to? Was he worried about me? He shouldn't be…at least, not yet anyway.

"What are you saying?" I snapped harshly. I was starting to get tired of this conversation and with nothing in my motel room but my case file; I was itching for a fight.

"Calm down, girl." Bobby snapped back, "With your father gone and your birthday coming up, you're all alone. I was going to tell you to go cool off; you're starting to worry me, Cole."

I slumped down on the couch; trying to ignore a metal spring poking me in my back, "Don't worry about me Bobby. I'm fine…really, I am!" I said trying to convince myself more than anything.

"So, what are your plans for the case?" Bobby asked, using his steel hunter tone. The moment I heard that, I loosened up; he was back into hunter mode and now I knew where he and I stood.

"A…Sean Boyden, suicide." I repeated reaching for my case file. "He had previously seen a black dog in his building. So, I might go and interview his friends and colleagues and see where that takes me from there."

"Let me know if you need anything else."

I nodded to myself, "Will do. Talk to you soon Bobby." I said flipping shut my phone.

I glanced around my motel room, it was five in the morning, and I hadn't slept for the last twenty-four hours; what should I do now? I was dead on my feet and all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep but I knew every time I relaxed or closed my eyes…I kept thinking about _them_ and that wasn't helping my mood.

I realized the dinner two blocks down the road was now open and my stomach grumbled in agreement. It was high time I actually partook in breakfast and I was feeling rowdy for everything that screamed greasy.

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"Hey Hun, what can I get ya?" I heard above me, I glanced up from my spot in the corner of the dinner with a worn scratched table hiding my wringing hands and forced a smile. It was the same elderly waitress that was always working the night shift when I always stopped by. I was in the same damn town now for two weeks already, having just started the case a few days ago, I had immediately took a liken to her. She reminded me of a clichéd waitress, the one who always wore too much makeup and always winked at the younger guys. She unnerved me though, with her keen eyes, it wasn't until the end of last week that she started asking questions about me…something I was not used to. Though I learnt from my Dad that you should never stay long enough for them to start wondering about you, and I broke that rule.

"Hey, Beth, can I have the Monday special please? With side of extra bacon and orange juice and a glass of water, please?" I asked realizing it had been a good day and a half since I had last eaten also.

"Will do, you must be really hungry huh Cole?" She rasped, jutting out a saggy hip.

I bit back a shudder and smiled instead; do not let her see how tense you are, I warned myself, "Yeah, about high time I have a good breakfast too."

"So…any plans on settling here?" She asked suddenly, her eagle eyes watching me for any movement.

I knew she gossiped with the locals and I also knew the locals were curious about me. I had missed my bus and was stranded here, too lazy to find another bus to get me out of this place but on my way to the bus station, I had picked up the newspaper and smiled when I found myself a hunt. I think I was starting to lose the taste for hunting…maybe Bobby was right, maybe I did need a vacation.

"Well?" She asked pulling me out from my thoughts.

"I'm happy to take it day by day." I smiled in response. She flashed me a wrinkled smile and walked away with my order. I pulled out my case and leaned back, maybe the day was looking up.

I don't know how many hours had past, but I had eaten all of my breakfast and by the time I looked up from my case and my thinking, it was already past nine. I shrugged and dug deeper in the pieces of papers and let my mind float.

I heard the dinner door slam shut and glanced up, my hunter eyes wide and vigilante. Someone had left in a hurry and for some reason, it didn't bother me; normally it would but I just couldn't summon up the will, the energy in me to be curious.

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"Dean, get up." Sam huffed, trying to catch his breath. He kicked the side of Dean's bed, wishing his brother hadn't slept in. Then, maybe then he would believe what he had seen.

"Hmm." Dean grumbled. "What's it?"

"Get up now, Dean." Sam snapped.

Dean sat up abruptly, rubbing his eyes wearily. He knew something was terribly wrong when his brother was panting and pacing nervously. "What's wrong?" Dean asked, throwing aside the covers and began changing into his clothes. He went to the bathroom and quickly did his bathroom routine before coming back into the room to still find Sam pacing. It suddenly felt like the night they had come back to realize Mira was gone. To this day, his heart still ached for her but he had to forget her. She was gone now.

"I think…I don't know what to think." Sam bit out, roughly running his hand through his hair.

"Okay, calm down and think. What the hell are you trying to tell me?" Dean asked sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Mirabella." Sam said quietly.

Dean threw himself towards his brother and haled Sam up by the lapels of his jacket closer to him, "Don't you dare—"

Sam grabbed his brother's wrists in his hands, "She was my sister too."

Dean threw his brother aside, roughly running his hand through his hair, "Look, I'm sorry. It's just…her birthday is…"

Sam nodded, "I…I think I saw her Dean."

Dean whipped his head to study and scrutinize his brother's face, "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not…look, I went to go pick up breakfast and I looked in the corner…and she was there…or a girl that looks exactly like Mira." Sam shrugged, trying not to let the turmoil of emotions bother him.

Dean grabbed his jacket and threw over his shoulder, "Let's go."

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"What do you mean, you think you saw her but you're unsure?" Dean snapped waving the picture of Mira when she was fourteen in front of the waitress named Beth.

She shrugged, "I don't know, son. I think I might know someone who kind of looks like her but that's an old photo"

Sam sighed, trying not to twitch his eye, "She had shoulder length dark brown hair, biting her bottom lip, and she was wearing a black jacket with—"

"Oh, that's Cole." Beth nodded more to herself than to the handsome men interrogating her, she missed the look the brothers exchanged and kept on talking. "Why…is she in trouble?" She asked, her motherly instincts kicking into high gear.

"No…she's our sister." Sam answered, both him and Dean itching with tension.

"Oh, well she's at the motel Waverly. Two blocks south from here." Beth gave them a few directions and bade them good day.


	3. Crossroad Blues I

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Thank you to all of the reviewers, favorites or alerts; it means a lot to me! __And to a special reviewer who won the prize :__D_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Three**

**Crossroad Blues Part I**

I glanced behind me for the second time this morning and tried to think nothing of it…I couldn't help it though. It felt like there was someone or something watching me…though I could rationalize it to my fear of wearing skirts. I always got self-conscious…maybe that could be the reason.

I growled under my breath when I almost tripped over my own feet, stupid high heels and stupid skirt. I glanced up at the building and smirked, I should have just taken a taxi, I thought, nodding to the bellman when he opened the door for me.

Finally reaching the floor, I was let in the beautiful apartment by a middle-aged man. He showed me around the place and I could feel his eyes on me when he thought I wasn't looking. I still didn't feel totally comfortable with men, I think it had something to do with my overbearing brothers and my realization that I never wanted to be like my mother or a one night stand. We exchanged pleasantries and I made sure to compliment him a few times on his outfit or the room itself; Bobby had told me that men liked things like that though he always made sure to tell me that I should be heavily armed when I did so.

"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" I asked, getting down to business, thank gosh for my ugly reporter shoes; though I don't think he doubted my act for one second.

He nodded and smiled at me again, "That's right, and to refresh my memory one last time…this is for--?"

"A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest." I said, trying for my best innocent voice. The effect was ruined when he threw his head back and laughed bitterly. "That's funny to you?"

He shook his head, "No, it…it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind…well, he gets another tribute."

I cleared my throat realizing I had nothing to say to that statement with one thought clouding my judgment; this guy I was interviewing was really a piece of work. "Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?"

The man shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life."

I frowned at that, "How so?"

"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I...and it wasn't always that way, either." He commented.

"No?"

"You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive. " He explained as I earnestly tried to hide my scowl at the coincidences of the dead man and Robert Johnson's life.

"Right…so what changed?" I forced out, wishing I could go back to my motel room and think things through with the case.

"You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing...he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart…" He cut himself off abruptly.

"What?" I asked trying not to glance around and see if there was a blue hairy monster behind me…I should have never watched Monster Inc.

"It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why... why just throw it away?" He asked.

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I left a while later, thanking him profusely, even though he made my gut clench from the un-pleasantries. I don't know what it was about him but I just didn't like him and all I wanted to do was take a nice long hot shower and clear my head. Instead I opted to go to an Animal Protection Agency but that was a bust also minus a few other addresses that also had complained about big black dogs.

I glanced around the street to make sure no one was following me and sped up; the sooner I made it to my motel room, the faster I could sort things out the better I'd be.

It was odd though, first this morning at the diner, I could have sworn someone was studying me. Then earlier today, I could have sworn someone or something was watching me again…maybe I really did need a vacation. Maybe Bobby was right.

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"So?" Dean asked pushing away from the Impala.

"So, the motel room is checked out under a Cole LaRose." Sam answered walking towards Dean with a few sheets of paper he had stolen when the woman behind the desk wasn't looking.

They had tracked down Waverly, the rundown motel and it had taken quite a few of jaw clenches from both him and Dean to not want to shoot something. They finally had found their sister and realized one: that she wasn't really using any pen names and two: she was staying at this dump…alone! Without any guardians. Yup, when he finally gets his hands on her…her butt will be sore for a good month.

"Hmm, wonder who that could be?" Dean mocked sarcastically, "Seriously, she's a Winchester and that's the name she uses?"

Sam shrugged opening the Impala's trunk to get other weapons, "I don't know…I always thought she'd make a great Liv to your Steven and my Joe."

Dean snorted, "C'mon, she could be back any moment."

Sam ran his hand through his hair, hating that they were going to break into their sister's room, "Dean…I mean…maybe we should just wait. I don't think Mira would like it if we—"

Dean lifted his hands in mock pacification, "Hey, quite frankly, I don't care what she likes or doesn't. She ran away Sammy…when she was a kid. Don't expect me not to be worried out of my mind."

"I know Dean but…"

"She could be a stripper or something!" Dean thought aloud, more angry at his mind for portraying all the horrible what-ifs.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, shoving his brother into her locked door, "What then huh Jerk? What if she was…would you go to a stripper bar still?"

Dean grimaced, "Shut up bitch and hand me your pick." Sam smirked in triumph and watched unabashedly amused when Dean struggled for a second with the lock.

"Maybe she's here working the same hunt we are." Sam thought aloud when Dean swung open the door.

"Well, it's kind of a huge small world, I guess." Dean stopped for a second, repeated the sentence again in his head and shrugged taking the first step into the room.

"It's weird. I would have never thought we'd see her again. And now…" Sam shrugged glancing around the room.

Dean picked up a dirty t-shirt from the floor and smiled to him self, "Look, I bought this for her on her thirteenth birthday." He mumbled rubbing absently at the AC/DC logo, trying desperately to bite back the tears.

Sam glanced around the room and smiled to himself seeing a laptop amongst an organized stack of papers on her table. Even if her taste in music sucked at least she had inherited her good organizational skills from him.

"Dude." Dean called out from the kitchen, peering his head into the fridge.

"Dean, you just ate. How the hell could you possibly be hungry now?" Sam snapped coming up behind his brother and frowning.

"You said that she was here for more than two weeks?" Dean waited for a grunt from Sam before continuing, "Then where the hell's the food? The waitress lady said she only came in once a night…I bet she's not eating." Dean slammed the fridge shut, "How the hell can she not take care of herself?"

"Dean, calm down. She's probably really busy with this case—"

"Don't try to cover for her Sammy. It's just like she was a kid and she almost never ate just because one stupid thing was bothering her…I'm going to kick her ass!" Dean snapped, pushing out of the room.

"Hey, don't be pissy at me…this was your idea Jerk!"

"Shut up and get in the car." Dean snapped waiting for Sam to lock the motel back up and face him, "Bitch."

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It had taken longer than usual for me to finally make it back to my motel room; Bobby always said it was dumb for me not to have my own car, I knew how to drive and all but I grew up with an Impala and once you have that in your life…there is no other car. So I just sucked it up and walked or bussed everywhere. I didn't really mind, it gave me time to do one of my favorite pastimes, studying people. It was weird and I knew that but I didn't care.

I sighed and walked through the parking lot, the sun was dipping and I yawned, when was the last time I slept? But I didn't want to, I knew what awaited me there and quite frankly, tonight; I could do without.

I opened my motel room and walked in, quickly locking the door behind me and doing a walk-around making sure everything was still salted and no furry blue monsters waiting to eat me. That's when I caught a hint, a whiff of spring and rain. I frowned and threw more papers on to the desolate looking table where the rest of my case was residing.

I sat down, fanning out all of my paperwork, I usually liked this part of the evening but tonight for some reason, I just couldn't. There was something bugging me and I couldn't put my finger on it. I knew those scents, I grew up with those scents. I remember when I was a child I would fall asleep in Dean's arms, enjoying how he smelled; I would revel in his scent. He smelled of earth after it had rained, of growth and thunderstorms past.

Sam always had a sunshine quality to his smell, whether it was soap or just him, I loved his smell too. If I would be having a bad day, I would simply hide in his embrace and feel comforted, like the sun was shining on me.

I roughly ran my hand through my hair, why now? Why was I thinking so much about my brothers? It was probably because of my birthday coming up, it had to be that. Hearing my ring tone, I answered it grumbling, "What?"

"Is that how you were taught to answer the phone, girl?" Bobby grumbled back.

I winced, Bobby. " No, Sir. It's just…why are you calling?" I asked before regretting it immediately, "I'm sorry Bobby, I'm just standoffish. Look…I've got to go. Bathroom calling." I lied, sighing when he said he'd phone me tomorrow. I pushed away from the table in disgust and began my ritual of pacing.

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I found myself curled in the tub with a pillow and my sawed off shotgun; since I was a child I made a safe haven for myself in the tub, I don't know why but to this day, I preferred hiding away rather than under the covers.

I heard a loud knocking on the door and scowled, what time was it? I pulled myself out of the tub with my pillow in one hand and my shotgun in the other.

"Housekeeping!"

I frowned harder, what time was it? Had I slept through until the morning? What happened to the 'Do not disturb' sign on the doorknob? I glanced at the clock and frowned harder, it was two in the morning, whoever this was, sure as hell was going to get a shotgun in the face.

I threw my pillow on the bed and went to the door with my gun, inhaling deeply I opened the door a few inches and died.

After a what seemed like an hour but was only a minute of standing in the doorway with my shotgun, I stared back at the green and hazel eyes staring down at me, "Umm, no housekeeping please." I squeaked trying to close the door realizing it was too futile when Dean threw the door back open.

"Sammy, get the door." Dean barked moving in to the room, stalking closer to me.

I gulped and glanced behind him, seeing Sam lock and secure the door, this was it. The moment, I thought I wanted. Where we would be a family again; together like old times. Isn't it what I wanted? Us coming together again, me finally getting enough courage to take a step closer to them.

But courage deserted me, I realized standing in front of the executioner and jury; shotgun dangle-ling loosely in my hands. This isn't what I wanted, them hunting me down. Looking between the two I realized Sam and I leaving had not only changed things, they changed us. We weren't a family anymore, we were just strangers in a room.


	4. Crossroad Blues II

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**AN:**__ Sorry for the long delay, I had to put my dog down earlier last week and I was just out of life for a while. I'm back and please excuse the lateness of this chapter. Thanks. _

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Four**

**Crossroad Blues Part II**

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Such fury and desolation in their eyes; I felt like for the first time, I was really alone in the world. That I lost my only allies, my other half's were no longer a part of me and this emptiness wasn't ebbing. In fact it hurt to breathe and I didn't like that one bit.

I would have given everything and anything just to be hugged by one of them, even just for an instant. It was a selfish thought, to think I would be comforted and feel safe for the first time in many years and once again sadness crushed me. It felt like there was a tide between us and the turmoil sweeping over my feet freezing my toes made me shiver against this sudden realization I didn't want.

When I first left them, it hurt. I never regretted leaving them, I was remorseful that I came to that decision but with the things I learned, I had to learn on my own. And I made it; by my blood, my force, my will, my drive and my own. But I couldn't help this sadness at seeing them and remembering all the smiles lost, all the times we could have had. The lost moments with my Dad. Hell, I was starting to wish my mom was still around. There was this deep longing in me, this inevitable loss that no matter how I tried, I couldn't move past. Every smile, every taste, every smell was undeserved if I couldn't share it with them, so I curled into myself and drifted. Drifting was easier than living.

I cried, for so long. It seemed that all I ever did was cry. There was this deep loss that hurt whenever I would wander through anything. This personal mourning that only I was a part of and no one else knew. I was a zombie but I couldn't help myself. Everything lost life. Food became cardboard, smiles became plastic and sleep was an escape, something that I reveled in. What else would I do with my life without them? So I slept…until the dreams came. Then, even that I lost. The more I ran and the more I tried to become normal, to tell everyone who asked that I was having a good day, or that I was fine; but deep down the wounds grew wider, festered. Not angrily so, but I certainly felt like I was losing life. Losing the essence that I wondered if I ever even felt. I didn't live for anything anymore, in fact sometimes I wondered if I would stop breathing, did that mean I would be dead? Because how I felt, all the zing that was missing, I was missing; maybe that meant I was already dead.

I thought of so many things to say in that sudden lull of silence; so many things that weren't enough, that were too late and maybe they didn't want to hear any of the things I had whirling around in my head. There was this foreboding sense of loss to my world and every time I looked them in the eyes, I realized it was never going to be the same. Even though I foolishly thought that us being in the same room would make things okay, I finally realized that I'd have to settle on being happy there weren't any punches being thrown…as of yet anyway.

I cleared by throat, jutting my chin upwards and facing their scrutinizing gazes with my determined one, "What are you guys doing here?"

"What do you mean what are we doing here?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Four years." Dean bit out taking a menacing step towards me.

And with my big mouth, I corrected, "Umm, three Dean. I left when I was turning fifteen. I'm not eighteen yet anyway." I shrugged nonchalantly to myself. I noticed Dean's jaw clenching and grinding, at least something hadn't changed then.

Sam sighed and broke the cold war, running his hand through his hair he walked around Dean to stand beside me, looking down at me with a sad smirk on his face, "You did something with your hair." He quietly commented, grabbing a few strands and twirling it around his finger.

I tried smiling but it cracked before I could plaster it to my face, why was this so hard? I craned my neck to study his face, was he always this tall? "It's called washing."

"Hello? Am I invisible?" Dean snapped waving his arms, "I believe we were having a conversation."

"No! You were snapping at me. So when you're ready to calm down, then we can talk." I subversively snapped…or yelled, but it was hard to tell in the heat of the moment.

I gulped down my nerves when I saw Dean ripple with anger and unconsciously inched towards Sam's side, not even realizing what I was doing.

"Dean, since you have the car keys maybe you should get some food." Sam offered lightly stepping on my foot for comfort. When we were kids and being berated by Dad, lined up like soldiers in front of him ready to be shot, we couldn't hold hands. Dad had put a stop to that after I turned seven; so Sam and I made up a system; I would lean into him and he sometimes would lean back or step on my foot. It was weird and it always made Dad roll his eyes but it helped me and maybe it helped Sam too.

Dean threw the keys at Sam's head, smirking evilly, "You have them now. So why don't _you_ get some food then?"

I gulped and looked from Sam to Dean and back again, "I feel like something sweet." I shrugged helplessly.

Sam glanced down at me and smiled, "Chocolate?"

"With peanut butter." I shared a smile.

"Food's not gonna come on its own." Dean snapped locking the door after Sam pushed by him.

We studied each other for a few tense minutes, realizing we were at a stale mate I turned around and headed for the bathroom. I was a foot away when I was pulled away from the haven of the bathroom and thrown on the bed.

I growled hitting my head on the hard bed, "Could you maybe _not_ throw me around like a rag doll?" I snapped angrily, pushing myself up to glare at him.

Dean shrugged out of his coat, and flashed me a smile over his shoulder, "At least you're talking to me now."

I bit back a disgusted sound, "Whatever." I muttered pulling back the covers and diving in. I was tired anyway and it was easier ignoring him that way also.

I felt like for the first time, I was at a loss at what to do, what to say, how to act and what hurt the most was that he was my own brother. The one that I would kill and die for. Yet I felt like we were unknowns. I curled on my side under the sheets and felt the bed dip behind me; I sighed realizing the big talk was coming.

Dean sighed, reclining back to lie down alongside me, "Your birthday is coming up."

I frowned at the wall, "I know."

Dean harrumphed earning a snort from me in response, "Are we ever going to know why?"

"When I'm ready." I answered quickly, knowing full well that I'd have to be nagged into being ready to tell them why I left.

"You do know that we won't leave you alone." Dean reasoned more to himself than anyone else.

I knew that, I expected them to be even more overbearing once we were together again. In all honesty, it didn't bother me, it was the only comfort I would allow myself. "I know."

"What else do you know?" Dean retorted.

I smiled, happy that he hadn't forgotten our stupid sibling bickers. "I know that you smell…like ass!" I giggled to myself and landed a good smack on his unsuspecting face with my pillow.

"Hey, don't say ass!" Dean snapped, hitting me back with the other pillow. I always noticed that even though we wrestled or had pillow fights, both of my brothers were always conscientious enough to make sure that they were never rough.

We calmed down a few minutes later, Dean smiling widely and me forcing a smile. Even though they were here with me now, I was still mourning them. I was still mourning a family that I wondered if I was ever a part of. It probably doesn't make sense to mourn someone that isn't dead, though to me, they both were still missing. Or maybe I was missing. What we were, would we ever be like that again?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dean quietly asked.

I sighed, how could I explain this deep sadness in me that hasn't left, even after all these years; even though they were with me now, I was still lost. "I don't know Dean, I just—"

"Food." Sam called out opening the door and kicking it shut behind him. Dean flashed him an annoyed glare and they shared a few looks before Sam walked to the kitchen, dumped the food on the table and came to sit on the bed on the other side of me; squishing me in their sandwich.

"What's wrong, Bella?" Sam asked brushing a traitorous tear that escaped my eyes. I felt Dean rustle and push himself up to watch me. I suddenly felt even more alone, with them both sitting up and me lying on my back, I felt like I was lying in a crevasse with these two giants.

"I'm happy that you guys found me." I confessed quietly.

"But…?" Dean asked, a frown evident in his voice.

"I'm hungry." I answered, cowering away from the conversation once again. Sam let out a sad sigh and helped me up.

For the first time in my life, I finally understood the phrase of there being an elephant in the room. It was there, we all knew it, we all saw it but none of us wanted to acknowledge it. Cause once you do then you have to fix the problem or open new wounds and let's face it, us Winchesters don't like to rehash things that should remain dead.

"Could you pass the hot sauce?" I asked Dean.

Dean handed me the sauce and got a eyeful of my mouth full of chicken fingers, "Nice. Really."

"What are you doing here, Mira?" Sam asked, glaring outright when Dean kicked his shin under the table.

"Working on a hunt." I answered. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to check out the black dogs." Dean shrugged.

"Hmm." I managed taking another bite out of the chicken. We lapsed into silence, each of our selves being buried deep by our own thoughts.

"You do know that we're never going to let you leave again." Dean commented nonchalantly earning a swift kick under the table by Sam. I saw Sam watch me worriedly from my peripherals.

"I know." I answered realizing that I was okay with it. I really was; yes, I would be sacrificing privacy and a few other things but I wanted this. I've come to accept and even get excited about our journey. I know I was sad and depressed now but that too would change, right? They brought the sun with them and I was glad, for once the novelty of grey was wearing off.

"Okay, Bella, tell us what's wrong." Dean snapped, pushing his food away and frowning darkly at me.

I blinked away my confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"You mopping around. I thought you'd be happier to see us…quite frankly I'm—"

"Dean!" Sam snapped.

"What Sammy? Don't tell me you're not hurt that she hasn't even once cracked a real smile since seeing us. Hell, I thought she'd faint when she opened the door to us. And you're not even that ugly." Dean quipped.

"Whatever. Bella—" Sam sighed running a hand through his hair.

"I need to use the bathroom." I tried pushing myself away from the table but both stopped me with a hand on each arm.

"You running again? How 'bout I break your freaking legs and get all Misery on your ass!" Dean snapped finally letting the levee break.

"I'm not running! I'm trying to work through my emotions!" I shouted, forcefully shoving myself away from the two. They stared at me as I began my pacing, running my hand through my hair and sighing.

How could I tell them that even though I was here with them now…I really wasn't? "I'm working it out, guys. I am. I just need time." I said quietly.

"With what?" Dean asked not understanding, at the end of the day, did I even understand?

"With what I lost." I answered dejectedly, my shoulders slumping even more.

"But we're here with you now." Dean frowned.

"But what we lost to get here, Dean. What I had to sacrifice for my stupidity!" I snapped.

"Bella, what you did…we understand. We weren't happy, hell, I don't think Dean and I are ever going to be happy with you leaving. But we understood, in time, that you had to do what you had to do." Sam quietly said, moving closer to me.

"Dad—" I whispered, my throat clogged.

"He understood too. Hell, you're more like him than any of us would like to admit." Sam smirked, earning a tearful smile from me.

Dean snorted, "You're both stubborn as hell." I stuck out my tongue and grinned, maybe we were going to be okay.

"It's time to go to bed, kiddo." Dean shoved me towards the bed.

I smiled and realized only one brother was going to sleep and the other one was going to be the watch. I realized then, that even though we were slowly being okay, I still had to earn their trust again. I understood that, even though I felt a slight sting, I understood.

0000000000000000

"Hi, can I have three orders of the daily special, two sides of bacon, pancakes and sausages each. Two coffees and three orange juices, please." I asked the man behind the counter. He gave me a speculative look, but accepted my cash and rung the order in.

It was hitting six o'clock in the morning and I knew Sam was going to be up soon with his turn to be the watchman, and I snuck out. Whatever, I had to. For breakfast. I was lucky enough, with Dean nodding off for a second and I took my chance. Who cares if I was still in my sweats?

I walked back to the motel room humming under my breath, the sun was shinning bright, I've finally got my two brothers back and I was starving with loads of food in my hands. Things were starting to look up.

Just as I reached the door, it was ripped open with both of my brothers glaring down at me, "What the hell are you thinking?"

"Where were you?"

I swallowed despite my non-guilty actions, "Breakfast." I offered the two bags for their inspections.

Dean and Sam shared a look and grabbed the bags from me, "Well, then. That's okay. But if you ever do that again, so help me god, I'll—"

"I know, you'll get Kathy Bates on me." I answered rolling my eyes at Dean's threat, locking the door behind me.

"So what's the plan today?" I asked mouth full of pancake goodness.

"Check out the other people on your list. A Dr. Pearlman—"

"Ugh." I made a disgusted sound, today was suddenly not looking so great. Couldn't we just go hunt something? I hated the interviewing processes so much.

"What?" Sam asked knowing full well what that sound meant.

"I don't know. I thought this hunt would be better but the more I think about it, the more I don't want to do it." I said. One, dogs. Two, I remember Bobby telling me the circumstances of how Dad died and this whole thing had been rubbing me the wrong way. It was one of the main reasons why I decided to take this case, if I could find answers about my Dad's death, then it would make things easier.

"You're just saying that because you're afraid of dogs." Dean amended over a zealous bite of sausage.

"I'm not _afraid_…per se."

"Hey, it's your thing. Sammy's afraid of clowns—"

"And you're afraid of flying." Sam commented dryly at Dean before turning to me, "Look, you have every right to be. I mean, if I was eight and attacked by three dogs, I'd be afraid too."

I closed my eyes against the revulsion of the memories, I still had a few wicked scars on my legs but the doctor said I had been lucky enough to run as fast as I did and have two huge brothers on hand. Yes, they said I was lucky. Lucky, my ass.

"Look, you can stay in the car if you want and when we get to the big bad dogs then you can stay here." Dean said shrugging before remembering that they were punishing me.

"Don't worry. I'm not to leave the room blah, blah and blah."

"She's got a mouth on her now, doesn't she?" Dean mused to Sam.

"I think she gets it from you." Sam quipped.

"Whatever." I muttered.

0000000000000000

"Okay, so the good Dr. Pearlman is also missing in action." Dean commented opening the door for me to slink out of. I stepped out and squinted against the blaring sun; blinking away the stinging from my unsuspecting eyes, I let my gaze wander around Lloyd's bar and what was a crossroad.

We had driven to the Doctor's and I had gone so far as to knock on the Doctor's door before hearing a dog barking, I'd taken on look at each brother and walked back to the car without hesitation. Sam hadn't laughed as much as Dean had when they got back into the car but I didn't mind, I'd find a way to get back at them, I was a Winchester after all.

I squinted against the blaring sun and glanced around the deserted crossroads and bar up ahead. Dean and Sam both began walking to the bar leaving me in their dusty wake. I frowned and jogged behind them, cursing their long legs the entire time.

"Guys, do you mind slowing down a little bit?" I asked earning a surprised look from my two brothers. They stopped randomly and I accidentally ran into Dean, thankful that he grabbed my arms to steady me.

"You're not coming with us." Sam abruptly informed me after I got my groove back.

"Why the heck not?" I asked incredulously.

"Umm…let's think here…" Dean contemplated sarcastically, "Because you're too young!"

"It's not a place for a…" Sam cut off not knowing how to finish the sentence still earning a frown from me. I knew what he was going to say, he always said it when I would try to follow them everywhere; child, I thought grumpily.

"Sam," I explained, biting back another frown, "I've been to place like this." I waved my hand absently to Lloyd's, "Where do you think I get some of my Intel for my hunts from?"

The moment the words came out, I realized I should have just bit my tongue and stayed by the car. I swallowed nervously when both my brothers exchanged a quick look and Sam began clenching his jaw. I braced myself, if I glanced over to Dean, I bet his eye would be twitching.

"Umm, it's not like I did anything I wasn't supposed to." I tried playing it down with a nonchalant shrug.

Dean pulled me closer to the two of them and glanced down at me; his fingers digging into my arms, "And what are you _not_ supposed to do?" He asked quietly.

I inhaled ready to recite, "No drinking, handing out my number, dressing like a ho-bag…" I stopped to exhale.

"And not going into bars alone." Sam bit out trying to blink away the horrifying images of his baby sister in the hands of a perverted hobo.

"We will talk about this later." Dean bit out, cursing his mind when he began picturing his baby sister wearing a skirt…in a bar!

I rolled my eyes and slowly took my time shuffling back to the car. I probably should never mentioned that hanging in bars were one of my only hobbies. The weird people, the obnoxiously loud music and the great greasy food.

I heard Dean call out to Sam and motion me over with a brief wave of his hand over to where he had stopped by a band of yellow flowers on the edge of the crossroads.

"What's it?" I asked coming behind Dean's kneeling form to peer over his shoulder.

"That's weird." Sam commented quietly, peering over my shoulders.

"Think someone planted these?" Dean asked frowning down at the flowers.

"Middle of all these weeds?" I asked suspiciously.

"These are, uh, what do you call them…" Dean thought aloud.

"Yarrow flowers." Sam answered.

"Yeah, right. They're used for certain rituals right?" Dean asked.

"Summoning rituals." I quipped up, blushing lightly when I felt Sam's gaze on the top of my head, "Some of us do like to research too, Sam. Anyway, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's."

"Where there just happens to be a crossroads." Sam commented.

"Let's find out." Dean muttered, standing up and walking to the center of the crossroad. "This seem to be dead center to you guys?"

I nodded, grabbing Sam's sleeve pulling him along as we joined Dean in the center. I watched as he kneeled down and began digging with his hands, a few terse seconds later I heard a clang of metal. I shared a huge grin with Sam and watched earnestly as Dean pulled out a small metal box.

"Yahtzee." I muttered, pleased that the case was finally moving along.

Dean stood up and opened the lid of the metal tin, we all peered inside and I let my eyes focus on the contents before picking up a thing that looked like an ivory pin.

"I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone." Sam commented dryly knowing full well what my response would be.

I gently dropped the bone back into the case and rubbed my hand up and down my jeans, "Eeuww."

"That's serious spell work. I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff." Dean commented.

"Used to summon a demon." Sam muttered.

"Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends well." I commented sarcastically.

Dean slapped me hard on my butt glaring harshly down at me, "Don't say damn."

"Fine." I muttered trying not to rub my stinging butt. I sure didn't miss that part of having them back. "They're seeing dogs, all right. But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls." I shuddered, letting Sam wrap a supportive arm around me.

Dean snorted at my shudder, "Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She's not running fast enough."


	5. Crossroad Blues III

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**AN:**__ Yes, I'm back. And I plan on starting a new fic, something for True Blood with Eric. _

_**If there are any of you**__ that like True Blood and Eric, please let me know. I want a few readers to read it and tell me how it is before I post it. It's all my nerves. _

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Five**

**Crossroad Blues Part III**

"So it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? Selling your soul at the crossroads kind of deal?" Sam asked leaning against the Impala.

I squinted against the sun trying to play it cool like they were, "Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music…. right?" Dean patted my knee, agreeing with me and Sam just shrugged. I rested my elbows on my knees and studied Sam; thankful Dean had let me sit on the trunk while they were leaning against the Impala. It was nice having older brothers…and for once I didn't feel that short.

"You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's like occult references all over his lyrics! I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me And The Devil Blues? Hellhound On My Trail?" I asked trying not to freak out that my cool older brother wasn't really that cool.

Sam frowned at me and flashed Dean a confused look, which only made me groan and hide my face in my hands, "Sammy, you aren't cool anymore! C'mon! The story goes, he died choking on his own blood; he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs."

Dean snorted, leaning over my shoulders to smack Sam on the back of his head, "Your younger sister knows more than you do Sammy."

I bristled on my perch, "I'm not that much older than him." I protested which earned me an unimpressed look from both of them.

"Your seventeen. He's twenty-one!" Dean retorted. I relented and shrugged, I really didn't think so but I knew that if I said anything, we'd start wrestling and throwing punches.

Sam cleared his throat and butted his shoulder against mine knowing my train of thoughts, "We've got to figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."

"Great. So we've got to clean up these peoples' mess for them? I mean… they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play Let's Make A Deal." Dean commented.

I glanced between both of them and realized; I disagreed with both of each of them. Yes, they had valid points but in all honesty, I would gladly sell my soul to save my family and I would go to the grave accepting the deal I made. But I would never sell my soul for my own gain, that would be selfish…though would it be selfish if I did, just to save them? What kind of dichotomy is this?

"So what, we should just leave them to die?" Sam asked.

"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?" Dean demanded glaring at Sam, though I was in the way…that made me feel like he was looking at me.

"Maybe some people don't want to be saved." I mumbled biting my bottom lip.

"Belle." Sam warned catching me in bad habit mode.

I released my lip and sighed, "Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right?"

Dean nodded, "So this guy probably summoned this thing, let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive."

0000000000000000

I gulped down my nerves as I glanced around the apartment complex in its vast and gloomy space. I fisted my hands by my sides unwilling to grab a hold of one of their hands. I had to prove to them that I was an adult now and hell; when I hunted alone I was never this jumpy. But for some reason, hunting with them, I have somehow resorted to my childhood nerves.

A part of me was happy that they were back, my soul seemed more vibrant now but there was still something lurking in the pit of my stomach. Something dark and heavy and I was too ashamed and too much of a Winchester to ever want to openly talk about it.

"What's the guy's name again?" Sam asked over my head to Dean, ripping my attention away from my darkened thoughts. Sometimes…well, most times when I was with my brothers, I always felt like a midget. And it was quite obvious that the giant gene they both shared missed me.

"George Darrow. Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. Though this house probably isn't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?" Dean retorted glancing around the place.

I shrugged, I liked it; it wasn't as posh as the architects' place but this had character and style often missed out on that one. "So whatever kind of deal he made wasn't for the cash."

Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, probably forgetting I was there. It seemed likely since they've been hunting together for more years than all of us ever were when we were together. "Oh, who knows, maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis."

"Dean." Sam deadpanned and patted me on the head.

I shoved at his shoulder, "I'm not naïve! And I'm not a dog, Sammy!"

Dean stopped in mid step, halting me also since I found myself holding onto his hand, "What do you mean, you're not naïve?"

I gulped. Wrong choice of words, really. What I meant to say was, I watched television and hell; I grew up with him. And Dean adult is nothing compared to Dean teenager. But I sure as heck refused to tell either of them that I was still a virgin. Yup, not ever going to happen. Maybe I'll shoot myself first. And how could I tell them that I bled monthly? Good gosh, I think they'd die. Looking back though, I'm thankful that my period came when I was sixteen and not when I was still living with them. Dad taking me to the store to buy _feminine hygiene products_? Or worse…him giving me the _talk_? That's just painfully awkward.

I shook my head and kept climbing the stairs, hoping against all odds that Dean would somehow forget everything I had just said.

"Oh no you don't." He bit out, ripping me back down to him. Thankfully, him and Sam caught each of my arms steadying me. One day, I have to remind him that I'm not his rag-doll. "Now, spill."

"Dean, do you honestly want my entire…umm…" I couldn't even say sexual history to them without blushing and they somehow thought that I was experienced?

"People's lives are at stake Dean! George's life is at stake." I snapped.

Dean shrugged, tightening his hold on my arm, "Who cares? He can die for all I care. He's the one that made the deal; he can live with it. Now talk."

Sam sighed, "No, Bel's right, Dean." He ran a hand through his hair frowning down at me, "But we will have a discussion later."

I winced. Discussion meant hell for me. And if my brothers are anything like Dad then crap, I'm a dead woman.

Dean grumbled but pulled me along with him. "Oh, we'll talk about it alright, Nat. And I bet your starting to regret the day you…god! I can't even say it!"

We finally reached the door of George's apartment when I glanced down and saw the doorway lined with what looked like black pepper. I snorted and pointed it to them. Dean shook his head and bent down to brush his hands in the mysterious powder but still made sure his hand was clasped in mine. I have to admit; they have talent, my brothers of mine.

The door was ripped open, earning a gasp out of me before I could think twice. Dean stood up and pushed me behind both of them and if the man standing in the doorway weren't fuming then I would have minded. But he seriously looked like he wanted to kill something, where's the shotgun when I needed it?

"Who the hell are you?" He barked at Dean.

"George Darrow?" Dean asked.

"I'm not buying anything." He snapped trying to slam the door on us.

Dean stopped him with his next words, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker there. Huh, usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt."

George frowned, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I pushed past them and tried not to rip my arm from Sam's grip. I glared up at George, trying hard to mimic his steel gaze also, "Have you seen a Hellhound lately?" I asked ignoring Sam stepping on my foot.

"Look, we want to help. Just please, give us five minutes." Sam implored.

George finally admitted us into his place and if it weren't for Sam who shoved me into the apartment I would have just stood in the doorway with my jaw on the floor. It was filled with paintings and artwork; and I finally realized what he must have gained from selling his soul. The paintings were beautiful and filled with pain and I couldn't help myself leaving my brothers side to walk around the place staring longingly at paintings I could never afford to own a piece of.

I heard them talking but in all honesty, I blacked them out. I know; dad always would berate me saying how I needed to pay more attention. Dean would shake his head at me but it was Sam that understood. We were dreamers him and I, though it wasn't until later that I realized dreamers die like the rest of them. Just ask my mom.

"Listen. I get that you three want to help. But sometimes a person makes their bed; they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place." I heard George comment.

I found myself standing in front of a medium sized canvas abstract oil painting of what looked like angry shapes. In violent colors swirling, boxing and cutting out a flash of bright hopeful color. And in that instant, I realized, that the bright smudge was I, and all the violent shapes and boxes were the things that I've been through. But still I remained.

"It's called _A Distant Echo_." George commented coming up from behind me.

"It's…beautiful." I said letting the awe in my voice speak for itself.

"Hmm, it was one of my favorites." I could hear the longing in his voice but along with the longing, I heard a bit of bitterness.

"Was it worth it?" Dean asked, snapping our attention back to the reality.

"I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just... I just never thought about the price. I asked for talent. Should have gone for fame. I'm still broke, and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst." George reached over my shoulder and grabbed the object of my affection, taking it with him when he wearily sat down in his chair.

"What was?" Sam asked.

"Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chatting, making more deals. I tried to warn folks, but I mean who's going to listen to an old drunk?" George snorted.

"How many?" Sam asked.

I closed my eyes and opened them trying desperately to ignore the number of people and their talking. I would have given my entire life to have my family back, all of them, living quietly and peaceful like so many others have.

"I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time. Okay, boys and lady. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help." George stood and began ushering us to the door.

"We can't just—" Sam stammered.

"Get out! I've got work to do!" George snapped, opening the door wider for us.

"You don't really want to die." Sam stated.

"I don't? …I'm tired." George shook his head. I let them walk ahead of me before I stopped by George, hopping they weren't paying attention to hear us.

"What you've done…I will remember that, Mr. Darrow. Even if you aren't famous and surrounded by pompous ignorant nobody's; your art touched me. It made me feel and I would have never thought that it was possible from a painting." I quietly confessed looking over my shoulder to make sure both Sam and Dean were still conversing in the hall.

George snorted, "You do wonders for my ego, girl." He said handing me the painting. "Its no use here."

"I can't take it. It's yours." I said pushing the painting back into his hands.

He won the fight with a triumphant smirk, "Consider it my last wish."

I winced and we shared a morbid smile, "Thank you Mr. Darrow. Really." He nodded and closed the door gently after me and I turned around to face my two brothers who might not understand as to why I took a dead man's painting.

We walked back to the Impala, drifting in our own thoughts. "Why'd you take it?" Dean asked pulling me with a question I didn't want to answer.

I shrugged, "Don't know."

"Don't go all Sam on me, Bella. And don't go putting hope into a lost cause." Dean instructed revving the Impala to life.

I placed the canvas beside me on the back seat, "What are you talking about? I'm not sad that he's going to die."

Dean scoffed, "Sure you aren't."

"I'm not Dean!" I threw my hand in the air frustrated at my bone headed brother, "He paid the price."

"We can save them." Sam muttered.

"We can save the ones that want to be saved." I mended.

"And these people don't want to be saved?" Sam asked.

I snorted, "They just don't want to die. They obviously didn't think about the consequences and now they're probably regretting it because they're afraid."

"That's very astute for someone who never finished high school." Dean mused quietly, earning a hard glare from both Sam and I.

"I might not agree with you Bel but we'll have to agree to disagree." Sam reasoned.

"God, you both are pansies." I heard Dean mutter.

0000000000000000

"Okay, stay close to either my side or Sammy's. Okay?" Dean instructed over his shoulder as he pounded on the door of what was Evan Hudson.

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, they acted like this was my first case. "I know, I know."

Before either of them could retort the door was hesitantly opened and a middle-aged man popped his head, "Yes?"

"Evan Hudson?" Sam asked.

"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago." Dean commented.

Evan's face paled and he slammed the door on us, and I grumbled in indignation. "Any other bright ideas?" Sam asked over the top of my head to Dean.

I glanced between the two and gulped. I saw the look in Dean's eyes and before I could throw my hands in the air, Dean kicked the door open. I opened my mouth to protest but Sam grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me along with them.

I found us standing in front of another set of doors and I knew again that Dean would want to kick the door down. Honestly, my brother is a caveman with door fetishes! "Wait! Dean, stop!" I shouted and shoved Dean away from the door, moved forward and pointedly opened the doors. Which to mine and Sam's bemusement were unlocked.

"Evan?" Sam called out, walking through the threshold of what was the library.

"Please don't hurt me." A voice called out.

I snorted derisively, "We're here to help you."

Evan ducked out from his hiding spot and took a good look at us, "I don't want to die."

"Of course you don't, not now." I said before I could help myself. I felt Sam step heavily on my foot and I ignored the pain.

"What'd you ask for anyway, Evan?" Dean asked, pulling me away from Sam's tyrannical games with my foot. I glanced around the room and shared a look with Dean; he looked so rich and comfortable; bastard.

"My wife."

And then I died. I mean; would I not do the same for the person I loved? Dean snorted but I squeezed his hand silencing him when Evan opened his mouth, "I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm, that... woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but... I don't know how to— I was desperate."

I gulped down some emotions that were too dangerous to even think about, "Desperate?" I asked, not really wanting to hear anymore.

"Julie was dying."

"You did it to save her?" Dean asked quietly and I squeezed his limp hand.

"She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying... a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot." Evan explained.

"Did you think about her in all of this?" Dean asked. Would Dean ever forgive me if I did the same as for him as Evan did for his wife?

"I did this for her." Evan defended.

"You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?" Dean demanded. I knew right then that Dad had probably done the same for him and it hurt. I hurt for Dad but I hurt more for Dean.

"Okay, that's enough." Sam said pulling Dean away from me and into the hall. He looked over at Evan and forced a smile, "You just sit tight, all right? We're going to figure this out. Nat, stay here and keep Evan company."

I opened my mouth to protest and slammed it shut when Sam slammed the library door closed after them. I loved my brothers and it took love for me to hate them. And I knew there were moments when I hated each of them. When they locked me out thinking they were protecting but in reality I felt inferior and my insecurities and doubt would come rearing its head. Yeah, it was those moments that made me realize why I had left them in the first place.

"You know they do love you, right?" Evan commented.

I snorted but tore my attention away from the shut doors, "This isn't about me, Evan. But yes, I do know that."

"When people love each other—"

I held up my hand and grimaced, "You're not going to give me _the talk_ are you?"

Evan smiled, a rare thing I bet, especially when his death was impending, "No. I was going to say, they try to hide and protect their loved ones. Even from things that the other person is probably strong enough to shoulder too."

"We're going to try to save you, Mr. Hudson." I promised.

I remember when I was younger and I had tagged along with Dad on a hunt; there was this woman who was crying for her lost son. She reminded me so much of Mom that I promised to bring him back; I later found out that he was never going to come back. And not only did I have to live with the guilt of giving her false hope, Dad made sure that I didn't sit properly for almost two weeks. Since then, I've never made promises, not even to myself.

Evans opened his mouth but was interrupted by the door swinging open and only Sam standing in the doorway. "Where's Dean?" I asked trying not to feel panicked.

Sam glanced guiltily away from me, "Don't worry, Nat." I shook my head and tried pushing past him but he grabbed me back to his side, "Don't worry. He'll come back…now concentrate. We have to help Evan." Sam ordered quietly to me. I nodded but still couldn't help frowning and biting my lip.

I ushered Evan to the middle of the room and we both watched anxiously as Sam sealed us all in the room away from the Hellhounds. "Goofer dust. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, all right?" I waited until he nodded then went to go see if Sam needed anything.

I don't know how long we waited in the circle, all I knew was that I was plastered to Sam's side and trying not to whimper when the door startled rattling. No matter how many bad things I saw, it was always the unseen things that scared me the most.

"Just don't move, all right? Stay where you are." Sam said to us, kissing the top of my head.

The door almost shook off its hinges as the rattling became insistently more violent. I was either waiting for my heart to give or the door and I was still unsure of what I thought would be easier. Before I could decide, the door stopped rattling.

"Do you still hear it?" I asked Evan quietly, eyes glued to the door.

"No…is it over?" He asked.

We all waited in silence, our hope growing …and then we heard it. The sound of growling and scratching by the vent; I slammed my eyes shut and I prayed to any gods I could think of. In desperation, I wasn't picky.

"Sam." I pleaded quietly.

"Just think of it as clowns. God, I hate those things." Sam whispered into my hair and immediately I felt better. Gosh, I loved my brother. Before I could tell him that though, the vent smashed open and the growling was now coming from the edge of the circle made from the Goofer Dust.

We all watched in horror as claw marks were gouged in the wooden floors that stopped just outside the circle. I knew what was going to happen, we should have somehow glued the Goofer dust to the floor. I bet they couldn't breach that! I'd have to tell my brothers that later…if I survived.

"Circle's broken! Come on!" Sam shouted and I blinked staring frantically at the edges that were now being blown away from a sudden burst of wind in the room. Before I could react, Sam threw me over his shoulder and ran alongside of Evan. I normally would start kicking and freaking out but he knew my ultimate fear of dogs. He was probably happy that I was only a quarter of his size. I always told them that great things came in small packages. And dang, it felt good to be right.

Sam abruptly set me down on my feet and shoved himself against the door to ward off the hounds. I pushed myself between Evan and him to help shove against the door. I felt like we were pushing for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few terse minutes. Then finally, suddenly the roaring of the hounds stopped.

When Sam's phone began ringing he answered it and after a few words, he smiled broadly at us. "You're safe now." He said to Evan.

We said our goodbyes and Evan thanked us once again and found ourselves waiting for Dean to come pick us up outside of Evan's house. We waited in silence and I huddled myself closer in to Sam's side, "I wish…." I said aloud shaking my head from wistful thoughts.

Sam pulled me back to glance down at me, "What?" He asked, tucking hair behind my ear.

I sighed, I hadn't really meant to say anything, "I wish we could have saved George Darrow."

Sam sighed, resting his chin on my head, "I know you do. But we can't save everyone, Nat. And George was tired. When people are tired…"

"I know, Sammy. I just liked him, is all." I confessed closing my eyes and letting Sam sway me to comfort. I was so tired; I must have fallen asleep in his arms.

0000000000000000

I closed my eyes tighter and shoved my head deeper into the leather of the back seat of the Impala, when Dean and Sam began talking about Dad and what the Crossroads Demon had said. I loved Dad but I don't know if I loved him as dearly as I thought I did before he died. What he did to Dean wasn't forgivable as I thought it would be. Dad was supposed to be strong, how could he do that to his own son?

I didn't know anymore. I just didn't know and for the first time in my life, I didn't want to know anything. I was tired of trying to shoulder things that I couldn't and dang it. Why couldn't we ever do things that normal families do? We deserved it! I just wish my brothers knew they did too.

"How could he do it?" Dean asked breaking the lull of silence.

"He did it for you." Sam reasoned just as quietly.

"Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him... wherever he is right now. I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that... yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this." I heard a sharp intake of breath and I knew Dean was fighting tears. If only I could break my charade and hug away all his pain, but then he'd try to act all macho and push me away.

"How many people do you think Dad saved? Total?"

"That's not the point, Sam." Dean protested.

"Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. But we're still here, man. So we got to keep going…for him." Sam waited a beat before continuing, "Dean?"

"Huh?"

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren't... I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?" Sam asked nervously and I couldn't help but gulp my nerves down.

Dean sighed, accelerating the Impala, "So…Mira."

Sam sighed, "We're not going to talk about it, are we?"

"Nope."

"God, you're such a jerk."

"Whatever you say…" Dean said before muttering under his breath, "Bitch."

"When are we going to talk to her?" Sam asked suddenly.

"About Dad?" Dean snorted.

"No…about…" I heard Sam fidget nervously in his seat. "First, about bars. Second, her comment on the stairs…?"

It took Dean a full minute and I quietly grimaced, I hate my brother Sam sometimes. "Oh! The naïve thing…shit. Can't we…just…show her a video that they have at schools?"

Sam quietly chuckled, "Not unless you want her to go and search for real answers. You know how curious she gets."

I heard Dean swore and shift uncomfortably in his chair, "Damn it! Fine…but I'm using the birds and the bees one. You can use the stork thing."

Sam laughed quietly, "She's not dumb, she's seventeen."

"God, you know what I was doing when I was that age?" Dean swore again before chuckling, "I hope she's like you. Nose in the book. When did you even lose your virginity? Three days ago?"

"Shut up, jerk."

"Whatever, bitch."

There was a quiet lull in the conversation and I was drifting off when I heard Dean grimace in disgust, "I'm not using any puppets to show her anything."


	6. Waking Amongst the Giants

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**My True Blood Fic**__ is called __**A Distant Echo**__**, **__and I'd really appreciate it if you would pop over, check it out and tell me what you think. Thanks! _

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Six**

**Waking Amongst the Giants**

Waking up was never my favorite thing to do. In fact, it was almost as bad as going to the doctors minus the poking and prodding. But seeing as how my brothers were always somehow touching me or near me, there was a lot of poking. This was one thing I missed; their warmth and comfort even when I'm unconscious. And how I missed sleeping. When I hunted alone, I never once allowed myself to deep sleep more just a power nap here and there.

"Are you up? …I can hear you thinking you know." I heard Dean mutter by my ear. He always did like to share my pillow; at least he never used me like a blanket like Sam did.

I ignored him and stilled my breathing, waiting for his next move. I felt one of his fingers brush the tip of my nose and I forced myself not to act. This was make it or break it time and he knew it. I felt his finger a hair away from my nostril and tried to bite my tongue from laughing out. He must have decided against the finger up the nostril move to let me sleep in. But I didn't let this chance pull me aside from sibling torment.

My hand was already pretty close to my mouth and I prayed hoping he wouldn't see when I licked my finger. I squinted my eyes open and realized he was trying to drift back off to sleep and it was now or never. I sucked on my finger quietly, trying to still my movements as much as possible and just when he started rustling which in Dean talk meant he was ready to get up, I shoved my finger in his ear and wiggled.

"Wet Willy Butthead!!" I shouted laughing manically when he started cursing and tried wiping my saliva out of his ear to no avail.

"God, I hate you Bevis." Dean muttered hitting my face with the pillow. I stuttered a second and reached for his and slammed it into his face, smiling brightly. It felt good to finally be us again and for the first time, everything that all of us had been through; our own internal struggles were okay. Because we were together again and that mattered more. We had each other now.

"Ugh. I can't leave you two alone for a second before you start pillow fighting." Sam lectured walking into the motel room with what smelled like breakfast.

"He started it."

"She made me do it."

I looked over at Dean, "How can_ I_ make _you_ hit me with a pillow?" I asked.

"Because you've got talent." Dean smirked causing me to roll my eyes. Really, they are so infuriatingly awesome.

"I call dibbs on the shower!" I shouted throwing the blanket on Dean making him trip, stumble and swear before I pushed past him, slamming the bathroom door on his face.

I heard muffled talking throughout my entire shower and I had to admit, I missed that too. For once, I knew my place, I knew where my heart was, I felt home. It was weird, I spent years in limbo and now that I was free, all that lost time felt like it was worth it. Because we were together again; misshapen but still together.

"Breakfast! Get your butt out here pronto!" The door shook as Dean pounded on it. I ignored him and shrugged into his shirt and a pair of clean sweat pants I found in Sam's duffel. I took a step to the door and swore when the pants fell to my ankles. At least the shirt covered me a few inches below my knees and once again I realized how gigantic my brothers were. I bent and shoved the pants back up to my hips and tried once again. This time I made it a few more steps and grasped the doorknob when the pants almost tripped me. But this time I was ready and I grabbed the hem with my empty hand and held them, ready finally to eat some grease with them.

"You look like a midget." Dean commented grinning.

I snorted and trudged to the table to join them, "I've run out of clothes…" I didn't bother adding that I secretly loved wearing their clothes; it made me feel closer to them, like I could never lose them again.

"But your duffel is filled with clean—Ow!" Sam glared at Dean then glanced at me and back to Dean sharing a knowing look. "Welcome back." Sam mused ruffling my hair.

I slapped his hand away and grabbed his plate and interchanged it with my empty one, "Yeah, yeah. So what's the plan? Chupacabra few states over?"

Sam snorted and smiled at me, "How does hanging out and relaxing sound?"

Like heaven! "Sure, I guess." I downplayed it but knew my excited grin ruined the effect.

0000000000000000

I slammed my eyes shut when the woman on the screen screamed and frowned when both my brothers began laughing.

"Dude, she's afraid of a guy with a machete!" Dean chuckled but didn't let me shove myself away from him. He was all talk but very sweet with his actions.

I was stuck with my feet dangled over Sam's legs and my upper body leaning against Dean's, with his arm comfortably resting on me. "Maybe she shouldn't watch this. She's sleeping with me tonight." Sam worriedly commented.

I frowned and resisted the urge to slam my heel down on his lap, "She'd appreciate it if you didn't talk like she wasn't here! And, you're the one that attacks me when I sleep. I'm a dang angel!"

Sam snorted but squeezed my foot, "Yeah, and Dean doesn't snore."

"I don't." Dean defended.

Sam and I laughed but I patted Dean's hand, " I like when you _both_ snore, it lulls me to sleep. It's comforting."

I rested my head on Dean and stared boringly at the television, "Isn't there something better to watch? Like…Carrie? Or…the Shinning?"

"Good taste." Dean agreed beginning his channel surfing all over again.

Sam sighed, "Thanks Mira, really I need another television induced migraine."

I smiled, "Stop!" I shouted when my eyes caught Lion King's opening credits.

Both brothers sighed but remained quiet. I didn't blink for the entire span of the movie and I knew they were bored but both didn't make a move to leave…not even when my waterworks started.

0000000000000000

"How can you not even think it's remotely sad?" I sniffled where I was perched on the bathroom counter watching Sam shave.

"Because it was a cartoon Bella." Sam said kindly. I knew he cried when he first watched it, Dean was helping me with my homework one night and Sam had snuck away to watch the movie and came back an hour later crying madly. I did the same with the movies I watched and it became habit to go to one and another for comfort.

"Why did Leo have to die?" I sniffled now talking about Titanic. To both of my brothers' dismay, it was a tearjerker fest on the channel and we watched Titanic, Lion King and Bambi.

"So Kate could live." Sam said simply.

I winced when I watched the razor pass his throat, "Why don't you grow a beard?" I asked suddenly.

Sam shrugged, "I don't know."

"Why are you shaving now?" I asked Sam.

"Cause I couldn't bear to watch you cry anymore." Sam said softly, eyes everywhere but on me.

"Are you saying I'm ugly?" I huffed.

Sam looked me in the eyes then, "No…I just can't bear to see you hurting or crying. I feel helpless." He confessed.

"Oh…" I ran out of words. He always said things when I least expected to hear them and I felt tears well to my eyes. Damn that movie channel! I launched myself into his arms, ignoring the fact that his face full of shaving cream.

0000000000000000

I shuffled out of the bathroom letting Sam have his shower and saw Dean frowning at the television. I plunked down beside him and grabbed his arm to wrap around me, "What you watching?"

"A movie."

I glanced at the screen and suppressed an eye roll, another cowboy movie. I swear, he would have been a cowboy in his other life. We sat in comfortable silence and for once I actually paid attention to the western movie and I enjoyed it. Not that I would ever tell him that.

I must have fallen asleep because when I awoke next, the beginning credits were starting for the Godfather and I grinned widely.

"Bella, you want something to drink?" Sam asked from the kitchen area.

I glanced up at him, still curled around Dean, "Sure. Soda?"

"You should drink more water." Dean commented from above my head. I couldn't glare up at him and not risk some permanent eye damage so I frowned at Sam when he handed me a glass of water instead.

"Thanks." I deadpanned.

"Hey, just watching out for you." Sam said smiling at me when I frowned harder at the water.

I endured the movie and loved it. I knew there were some sex scenes and swearing. Every time there would be a sex scene, Dean would lean over and cover my eyes and every time there would be swearing, Sam would cough. They were overbearing and I loved them for it. I probably shouldn't tell them that I've seen this movie almost ten times already.

We spent the entire day curled on the sofa, watching television, eating leftovers and junk food. It was nice not to think about anything but us for once. Even if we didn't travel or sightsee, we were perfectly content with our own company to complain. And I for one was happy right where I was.


	7. The Prices Paid

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**Thank you!**_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Seven**

**The Prices Paid**

"I'm hungry." I mumbled.

Sam snorted ruffling my hair, "You always are, Bella."

I shoved my face harder into the groove of his neck, "Can I go to the convenience store?" I knew full well before I left I never needed to ask but now things had changed. We had changed.

"Yeah, I'll come with." Sam pushed us up, calmly holding me to him.

"I'm not your teddy bear, Sammy." I mused but I didn't move. I missed this; I missed him.

"Shut up." He retorted kindly throwing me on the bed. I watched him grab his coat and wallet then accepted the hand he offered me.

He didn't bother telling Dean where we were going; we both knew Dean would probably meet us there.

We walked in silence to the small store, I held onto a loose end of his shirt trying not to let my mind think. I felt as though I had to cut my head open and let them examine my brain so they could really understand the reason why I left. I thought they understood it and maybe they did, just like how Dean maybe understood the reason for Sam to leave also. But then again, maybe they didn't. But maybe they did…it was a stupid game I was playing and one that was getting stale, fast.

I heard the cling from the door and walked through the threshold, looking for the 'healthy' things; like M&Ms for Dean and Twix for Sam and well, anything for me really. I soon found myself immersed in the candy aisle and forgot all about Sam; I barely registered Dean walking up to me, pecking me on the top of the head. Candy, what could I say about thee?

I felt a vibration in my pocket and deftly shoved my hand to retrieve my phone, "Yes?"

"Hey Mira!"

I smiled hugely despite myself. Whenever I heard the excited voice of Daniel on the other end, I could never help myself. He was so energetic and happy with so much spunk. It was amazing to think that just a few months back his sister's ghost had been trying to drown him. He never ceased to amaze me with his constant courage and even his weaknesses were his strengths.

I had met Daniel in a small city in the middle of nowhere America. I was at the library doing research on poltergeists and of course the elusive Chupacabra on my day off, when this spunky blond haired ten years old boy interrupted me.

He arrogantly sat down besides me and if he hadn't told me his age, I would have assumed him to be much older. It was his presence, I guess. He had large dark circles under his eyes and scratches on his cheek. Being Daniel, he wormed his way into my concentration, shoved past my shields and settled himself close to my heart. I tried biting my tongue the entire conversation we had, I told him almost everything about me and he told me everything about him. I found out his sister had just died, they were twins and I could tell he missed her. He had wanted to join her but I vehemently put my foot down, and changed my boring research into research for the new case I threw myself into.

I had always wanted a little brother, someone to take care of. Sam and Dean always took care of me and I wished my mom had given me someone to take care of before she died. I missed my brothers a lot and though it didn't help that he reminded me of Sam when we were kids, I didn't mind, he was my new little brother. One who was safer for me.

He phoned me often, and I didn't mind. Heck, it was either him or Bobby, so I relished the time when we spoke. Everything about him was so refreshing, it was probably because he was so young, and I liked hearing his easy chatter. It made me realize the reasons why I hunted, the reasons I often forgot.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?" He demanded.

And I smiled, barely paying attention to the candy I threw into the basket, "Yes, of course Dan! I was just thinking about how cute you were when I first met you."

I heard a disgusted disgruntled sound from his end, "I'm not a little boy! I'm turning eleven in six months!"

"Oh, wow. Eleven." I deadpanned. "Anyway, what's up Dan? Haven't heard from you in a week." We chattered away for a while and my basket was starting to get heavier by the minute. We signed off in our usual child-like giggles and I felt elation fill me. When I saw Almond Joy next to Kit Kat, I knew I was in heaven. Where were Dean and Sam? My arm felt like it was going to fall off and I wanted to show them that this candy aisle was made just for me.

I turned around trying to find them and died.

Dean was frowning heavily and Sam looked taken aback. Had I done something wrong? Did I throw too much crap into the basket? Why the heck were they looking at me like I was a Yeti?

"What?" I asked trying not to feel the need to look around if there was a monster behind me.

"Whom were you talking to?" Sam asked quietly. I swallowed audibly not realizing what was up.

"Who is this Dan?" Dean asked just as deadly.

I heard the ting of the light bulb going off in my head, "Oh, wait…you think Dan and I? But he's…" Then I started laughing. I realized the minute Dean grabbed the basket from my hand and threw it on the floor, and Sam gripping my arm tightly pulling me out of the store; that they really took this Dan business seriously. It didn't help that Dean and Sam were already pretty suspicious of me and they hadn't had the chance yet to have _the talk_ with me either. Crap.

"Could you slow down? My legs aren't as long as yours." I called up to Sam.

"Shut up." Dean barked grabbing my other arm and pulling me along. Seriously, after this was done, I'm really going to have a talk with them too.

I winced when they slammed the door shut after them, locking me into our motel room and I tried not to balk when they stood there, both glaring at me.

"Who is this Dan person?" Dean asked quietly.

"Dean—"

"Mirabella Natalie Larose Cole Winchester!" Sam snapped and I began to gnaw at my bottom lip. "Why won't you answer the question?"

"Because it's not a question! It's a damn Inquisition!" I snapped just as loudly. "Dan and I are not…are not…he's ten years old!" I shouted, my spirits pummeling. Why did they not believe me?

They both looked taken aback but Dean snorted just as fast, "Yeah sure he is. What's his last name?"

"Why, you going to get Bobby to do a background check on him?" I mocked then realized that he was completely serious. "Ask Bobby about the twins and poltergeists. He'll know." I said quietly. I knew I had left and when I left I took their trust with me but still, there was a small part of me that wanted their undying trust. And not even I could believe in such a thing.

We watched Dean stalk off ringing Bobby about Dan and I bit my lip to keep it from quivering. I knew it would be hard for us to come back together but at least I still trusted them because at the end of the day we were blood and we were all we had left.

"Mira…" Sam began quietly. He was always the nicer of the two when they both berated me and he always felt guilty first.

"Don't Sam. Don't even stand there and try to apologize for condemning me when we both know I didn't do anything wrong. I have never lied to you and unlike you two; I don't have any intentions of lying either. Dan's my friend, when I had nothing left; I found something to give me hope again. So shoot me if I was wrong." I said quietly not even glancing over at Dean when he joined us again.

"He checks out." Dean told Sam.

I raised my eyebrows at Sam and shrugged, "Can I go now?"

"No. You are going to talk to us, Mira." Dean commanded.

"About what? Having two brothers that are worse than scum?" I retorted biting harder on my lip.

"Don't you raise your voice, you might not like us right now but you have no right to speak to us like that." Dean snapped.

"I have no rights!" I shouted.

"And you won't if you keep on acting the way you are now!" Dean snapped.

I slammed my eyes shut and tried to stop the quakes coming from my insides, I sure as heck did not miss then trampling all over me. But I had to keep reminding myself that they loved me and they only meant the best, trying to protect me and all; but dang, they need to breathe sometimes.

"I don't have a boyfriend." I admitted, hating the fact that I could feel my face getting redder.

"And…" Dean asked waiting. I felt no need to say more, didn't that mean that I had a huge V tattooed to my forehead?

"That's all." I shook my head trying not to feel my stomach join in the fun with the rest of my insides also.

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours and I hated when Dean and I always engaged in the familiar cold war. We were both stubborn and it usually took great will and loss of pride to admit our own follies. "I don't know what else there is to say!"

Dean stared at me clenching his jaw, refusing to give in.

"I don't!" I shouted when Dean raised his eyebrow.

"How about that I hate being a girl most times because I'll never fit in with either of you! Or about the first time I got my period I thought I was dying because Dad and everyone refused to talk to me about my own damn body! Of course I'm a virgin, how could I not be when I have you two freaks as brothers!" I shouted, hating them at that moment.

Hating myself for acting like I did before I left. It was at that moment, when I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me and locked it, cowering in the tub: when I realized that this was the real reason why I left. Because after all my growing, after going to the ends of the earth and back; I was still always going to be their five year old sister who doesn't know anything. I felt smaller than I've ever felt before and it hurt to think of the way they both looked at me, how far I've fallen, so I curled up in the tub and began to cry.

I cried for Dad and for all the lost times I had with him. I cried when I felt the sting of remorse, of his disappointment. I even shed tears over my stupid brothers and for Dan's sister. But I mostly cried for my mom, a mom who was never supposed to be, for someone as selfish as she but from I could remember of her, I held tightly onto. I remember the way she smelled of flowers, would chatter away as I held tightly onto her. At my strongest moments, I barely glanced her way, not even bothering to thank her for mothering me. She died before she could really do anything more but I really knew the truth. At my weakest moments, I accepted that truth, that deep down, I really wanted her to come back, that I missed her just as fierce but in an own unique way as I did with Dad. I used to dream about her, of what we could do, of how lucky other people were. I used to curse them in the same breath but now I have to shrug. The world doesn't nurture dreamers; they die like the rest of us. At least I have her to thank for one lesson in life.

I curled tighter around myself when I heard a door slam and someone picking the bathroom lock. I didn't want to talk and I didn't want to see them either. I wanted to be alone, couldn't they understand that?

"I'm sorry." I heard beside me as Sam settled himself down besides the tub. I shook my head and flinched when he touched my shoulder, he sighed and let the hand remain. "We mean the best Bella, we want the best for you. And wherever you're concerned we tend to forget ourselves and act like cavemen."

I hesitantly uncovered my face and glanced over at the depressed looking Sam, "I just don't get it." I rasped out. I hated crying, it always made me feel like a huge blotchy red blob.

Sam sighed, "After us being apart for so long, I guess we let our imaginations get away from us and we thought the worst." And I bit back a louder sigh biting harder on my bottom lip until I tasted blood.

"Please, Bella, stop crying."

"Why do you always use so many nicknames for me?" I complained.

I felt Sam shrug and he sighed rubbing his hand down my back in a circular motion, "You're not telling me what's really bothering you."

"I told you." I mumbled against his chest. It hurt my own chest the way I was smashed against the tub and Sam knew that. He pulled me out and let me sit in his lap.

"No, I know you are upset that you think we don't trust you. I know you're upset because we cornered you into telling the truth—"

"I miss my mom." I blurted out suddenly afraid. I knew the way their mom had died and I knew they were still touchy as heck. I felt Sam stiffen and I sniffled, "I'm sorry."

Sam pulled me back to stare down at my face, "Why?" He whispered, wiping the tears from my face.

"You know why." I stared at his chest, feeling shame over my statement. They lost their mom too but that didn't mean they didn't miss her. I was the only one sobbing.

"Hey, stop it." Sam shushed. "You have every right to feel that way and I'm your brother. Just because we lost our mom…doesn't mean you can't come to us and talk."

I hugged him tighter to me, I loved him more than ever and I was so glad I found my way back. I sighed and shoved my head against his neck, "I wish…I wish we could be a huge family."

"We are a family." Sam commented.

I shook my head, "I know that, silly. I meant I wish I could have mom back and you could have yours back too. And Dad. Maybe I could have a little brother."

Sam sighed, "You thought a lot about this haven't you?"

"Sometimes. I just see other families and I can't help but wishing."

"I'm not going to tell you not to keep on wishing but Bella, you have to know that it won't change things." Sam said kindly.

"I know. I only think about it when I'm having a bad day." I amended.

"I'm glad you told me." Sam tightened his hold on me, "Do you forgive me?"

"What's to forgive? I mean, you did hurt my feelings Sammy but…" I shrugged.

Sam kissed my head, "You forgive too easily."

I suppressed the urge to wipe my nose on his shirt, "You did hurt me but…I'm glad you're here."

Sam sighed, "Dean—"

"I don't want to talk about him." I might have forgiven Sam but I sure as heck did not forgive Dean. He pushed too far and somehow he thought the worst. How could I ever turn out like a girl version of him? No, I won't forgive him easily.

"He'll come around." Sam commented.

"I don't care."

Sam snorted, "Sure you don't."

I didn't care. I didn't care that he was probably with some floozy instead of where I wanted him to be. I didn't care that he had hurt my feelings or that all I wanted from him was validity. But most of all I didn't care that I actually cared at all.


	8. Steadfast to Ourselves

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Eight**

**Steadfast to Ourselves**

I was never one of those persons to feel guilty about going to bed angry. Nor was I one of those persons to wake the next day and find myself alleviated of the anger and suddenly refreshed. It was always the total opposite and both my brothers knew to never bug me in the morning, especially when I went to bed in a bad mood. I always woke to be easily irritable, moody, spiteful and very immature.

So when I felt something brush my forehead I frowned in my sleep and tried swatting the thing away, but to no avail. I was finally forced to open one eye and squint angrily at the thing or person annoying me. It was Dean staring down at me and I realized the warm cocoon I was sleeping in was actually his arms holding me. And instantaneously I was angry all over again. How dare he accuse me of those things, not trust me and think the worst of me? It hurt; and anger mixed with pain was very powerful and hazardous.

I groggily shoved myself out of Dean's arms and threw a glare at him for good measure. I didn't bother looking around for Sam; he was probably out getting breakfast since he was such an early riser. I slammed shut the bathroom door after me and began my morning ritual, banging and throwing things around. I know it was petty but it felt good. It always felt good to relish the negative feelings rather than accept the inevitable. And the inevitable was the fact that we had to speak to each other one point or another and it might as well be sooner than later.

"Bella?" Dean called hesitantly, gently knocking the bathroom door.

I pulled away from glaring at myself through the mirror…had he just knocked? I didn't know what to do, it was a rarity that Dean ever knocked, and it was a Kodak moment, something I always wanted to happen but when it did…I was unprepared.

"C'mon Bella, open the door so we can talk."

"I think you've said yesterday for the both of us." I snapped, immediately feeling guilty for my pettiness.

"Please? Just open the door." Dean tried again.

I sighed, he was right. Hear what he has to say and take it from there, we were going to be hunting together; we couldn't just stop talking randomly. Even if he was wrong. I sighed hugely and unlocked the door, waiting for him to speak. But when he just kept on staring at me, I couldn't help myself and started tapping my foot impatiently.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, Bella." Dean ran a hand through his hair ruefully.

I had no doubt that he was, from the sincerity oozing from him, he really meant it; but I was still slightly skeptical. "Do you even know why you're sorry? Or are you just saying that to make the peace?" I mocked.

"I said things that…I'm your brother dammit! I should be there for you and when I wasn't, I was…afraid that someone would hurt you. I thought I failed. Maybe I did." Dean confessed sadly.

I knew that his confession had cost him dearly, he hadn't even been able to look me in the eyes, I missed my old confident brother; I guess we were both wrong and right in some ways. "Dean—" I threw myself at him and squeezed harder when he hugged me to him.

"You raised me, at least trust your own judgment that you did well. Heck, look how I turned out, I'm awesome!" I joked and knew that it had worked when I felt his smile against my hair. "You've always been there for me Dean, always."

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"Get your ass back in there and put on the rest of that skirt!" Dean snapped.

I knew taking both my brothers shopping was a stupid idea, but I needed clothes and we desperately needed family time; what better way to do it then to bond over shopping? I might have forgotten though, that both of my brothers had a tendency to be very protective and they wanted me to wear a huge garbage bag on at all times. _'To protect you from perverts.'_ Dean so kindly and eloquently had put it.

"Dean! You can't even see anything!" I tried.

"We can see plenty!" Dean threw back.

"And your knees." Sam added.

I threw Sam a glare, "So helpful, thanks Sam!"

I personally didn't think a black flowing skirt that barely covered my knees to be too floozy or even daring. It was perfect for summer and it would look great when they would take me out to a fancy dinner. What was I saying? We were Winchesters and hunters; fancy dinners didn't exist unless we were incognito.

"I'll go change." I sighed, turning back into the hidden crevasses of my changing room. The poor salesclerk had taken one look at both of them and almost swooned; they didn't even have to ask for chairs, she had offered it immediately to them. Wasn't there a policy that no men were allowed in a woman's only section of changing rooms?

I narrowed my eyes at my reflection, sometimes I missed the past and other times I knew what had to be done. It didn't change things but it would have been so much easier if I were a boy. I remember when I was ten and started sprouting a chest, I freaked and cried for my brothers; they had ran from wherever they were hiding and Dean ordered me to get dressed and stop crying. Sam hadn't even bothered to tell me about putting clothes on; he was too busy trying to console me. But I was inconsolable, there was something wrong with me…my chest had _hurt _and I was growing flesh where they were flat cheated. It had taken a better part of that day to finally get me clothed and cease my crying, I learned a lot that day and they did too. Dean had treated me more like a lady from that day forth and Sam? Sam had become even more of my savior in a way, he had listened to me when no one else thought to.

I settled on two pairs of jeans and a few shirts, telling them it was all I needed. To hell with skirts! How could I sensibly chase something down and not flash a few people on the street? I didn't want to get arrested for indecent conduct and I sure as heck didn't want to face an angry Dean.

Sam pulled a chair out for me and my small smile widened happily. People watched his gentlemanly act with eyes that bordered on insulting but this time I ignored everything but my family. So these locals have never seen a gentleman before, heck, we were at a diner, I bet they don't even know what a gentleman was. That aside, Sam knew I was still healing and he did know the way to my easily softened heart.

I waited for Dean to prattle out our order to the server before I stretched back in my seat. Sometimes it would be nice to dream about having a home with them and cooking a nice dinner like a normal family would do but that wasn't us. That could never be us, we were meant for this life; and though I hated the idea of Fatalism, somewhere deep in me I knew there was a bigger reason for all of us. Why we chose our own roads and though we were different, we were together; we would always know where we stood.


	9. Croatoan I

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Nine **

**Croatoan Part I**

Standing in the doorway of our motel room, a few things came to my gaping mind. One, why were my two beloved brothers throwing all of our things in our duffel bags in haste? Two, why was Sam sweating so profusely, three; our dinner I had picked up was totally decimated from the sudden impact of slipping from my fingers and hitting the floor.

I didn't recall a case that was so important we had to cancel our family date night, when had something come up? I knew Dean had finally relented when it came to my begging about hunting down a Chupacabra three states over; but this sudden dash to leave?

Just my luck too. The one time Dean had finally let me go gallivanting on my own to pick up our dinner and a movie; something big had happened. Something so sudden and important that they didn't even notice me, I felt something slither in me; a sudden lulling hush had set deep in my bones. An anxious fearful feeling that I didn't like one bit.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog strangling my brain and kicked the bag of dinner aside to shut our door. I didn't bother locking it, if we were leaving, was it really that important? I cleared my throat and barely got a glance in return, something was really wrong.

"Go wait in the car Bella." Dean ordered harshly.

My gaze flew to Sam and he barely registered my anxious presence. Out of both of my brothers, Sam was always the one to pay special attention to my feelings. But this sudden change?

"Sam?" My quiet voice sounded like a gunshot in their nervous haste.

"Just get in the car Mirabella." He sounded so quiet, so tired. And suddenly I lost all of my fight.

I heaved my shoulders up, trying not to lose all the reasons why I decided to stay and hunt with them. I loved them, which were as good as any right? But I didn't feel like I belonged anymore. Was this really where I should stand? Behind them, off to the side as they stood strong and united together? So what if I was feeling left out, it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. But I had to get to the bottom of what was wrong with Sam; maybe if I found the underlining problem, I could help him like he always did with me.

I didn't really bother paying much attention to anything after they loudly made their way into the Impala. I couldn't really do anything to help them; I was utterly useless in my attempts to help either of them, especially Sam. I knew they weren't going to discuss anything in front of me; they had already discussed plenty in my absence whilst I waited in the stupid Impala. When this was over, I was seriously going to kick both of their Asses.

"So, where are we going?" I asked innocently.

Dean sighed, I could tell he was glaring at the road ahead of him; that sigh was stronger than the wind of a tornado. "Don't start, Mira."

Something in me snapped. Not only were they hiding something from me, they probably didn't even think of letting me in on it either. Yup, ass kicking they were owed. "Start what, Dean? Start wondering where the hell you're taking me? What the hell we're going to face—"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, Mirabella Natalie Larose Cole Winchester! And you say hell one more time, I swear I'm going to—"

"Kick my ass?" I shouted back, earning a glare from Dean and a disappointed look from Sam. What the heck was his problem? He was either ignoring me or shutting me out. "What Sam? I'm not going to quietly believe and go along with whatever you both want me too!"

"Stop, Bella. Just. Stop." Sam tiredly said.

"Sam!" Dean warned and at that moment I knew Sam was going to break the truth to me. I'm just not so sure if I wanted it anymore, I mean, how painful was it that they both were trying to protect me from it? They just didn't realize that them protecting me was doing more damage than good.

I waited a few tense seconds pitying my poor brother and growing tenser by the second, feeling like the invisible string would snap at any moment. "We're going to Rivergrove."

I glanced between the two, not understanding at all. "Rivergrove? Why?"

Sam sighed, "I…know someone there and uh, got a worried phone call from him."

I caught the glare Dean shot him and frowned even harder. Fine, if that was the thin reason we were going to drive hours and hours to someplace…then I'd accept it. I always were my brothers little soldier and that's what I would have to be for now.

I fell asleep gnawing worriedly on my bottom lip and hiding my face cowardly in between the leather seat. I didn't know what bothered me more; that they were lying to me or that they were doing fine without me and moved on?

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I woke with a sudden start, feeling the door slam shut. I rubbed my bleary eyes and lifted my head to glance out the window and frowned deeply. I suddenly couldn't even breathe I was so confused. Seeing my two brothers talk amongst themselves bothered me but didn't they even try to wake me? They normally would but I was starting to come to the realization that it would have been better for all of us if I were back on my own. That way they wouldn't have to run around me, hiding things and I wouldn't feel like I was a child again, lucky that I could tag along and be a third wheel. Maybe I should start to think about myself now, seeing as how I was already forgotten.

I watched them gaze around at a small house on a lonely stretch of road, their mouths moving. Suddenly I felt like a small child again; watching her brothers hunt and live whilst I stayed lowly behind. Well, maybe when I was younger but I dang worked hard to grow into what I am and I'd be damned if I was going to watch them this time. I just had to find a way to sneak out of the Impala and over to them without them hearing. I ducked quickly out of sight, smashing myself against the leather seat when I saw Dean about to turn and glance at the car. I already knew I was going to sneak out of the car when they weren't looking, if I had to resort to being sneaky; then so be it. But I was going to get to the bottom of this. Even if I'd have to rip my heart out in the process.

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Dean glanced over his shoulder towards the Impala, feeling the slight sting of anger, frustration and the bitter edge of guilt. It had been a while since he had felt this way and he wasn't really enjoying it.

He had promised his father something on his deathbed but Dean would be damned if he'd push away Bella for Sam's sake. And for what? Because Sam in his own skewed way was trying to protect Bella? He didn't want Bella to know either nor did he want to alienate his only sister; especially when he had just gotten her back. But he was playing a part in their undoing and he knew the outcome. He just wished Bella were stronger now than before, to face what he knew would be her hardest test.

Bella was like a skittish colt, trying to deny her true way; which she'd unfortunately had gotten from their father; her unfettered needs to remain free. But he was selfish and he'd be damned if he would ever let her go again.

"…Sam?" Dean asked, clearing his voice when he heard a whisper of doubt lace his tone.

Sam paused, hand poised to knock when he slowly registered his brother's hesitance, "What?"

"Bella should be here with us."

"Dean, she's sleeping in the back of the Impala." Sam answered impatiently.

Dean harrumphed, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I don't want to do this now Dean." Sam bit out, focusing solely on what awaited them behind the door.

"Fine, when do you want to do it then? Huh? When Bella leaves because we fu—" Dean snapped.

Sam turned on him, eyes blazing with unkempt rage, "I said not now, dammit!"

Dean bit back a growl and shouldered past Sam to loudly pound on the Tanner family's door. He still didn't understand why Sam was making a big deal out of his whole 'vision' nor did he really feel like questioning whomever to get to the bottom of something when all he wanted to do was make sure Mira was okay. He'd be damned if he had to lose someone else.

The door opened to the brothers, revealing a teenaged boy with dark spiky hair, "Yeah?"

Dean flashed the boy his badge, not even bothering to care if he believed them or not, "We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here right?" If only Duane would come to the door, he'd make sure everything was alright, tell Sam he wouldn't shoot this Duane guy and then they could all go on their merry ways…did he just say merry? God, that marathon of _Martha Stewart_ Bella had made him watch must have really stuck with him. Damn it.

Jake's eyes narrowed on the badge before turning bland eyes to Dean, "Yeah, he's my brother."

Dean tried willing away a flash of impatience, now would not be the time to punch the kid in the head; though he could totally imagine Sammy's face on that one, Dean mused before realizing the kid was still waiting for him to say something. "Can we talk to him?"

"Oh, he's not here right now." The boy answered innocently.

_How convenient, _Dean thought blackly, "Well, do you know where he is?"

The boy shrugged, "Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake."

"Your parents home?" Dean heard Sam ask, his voice rough and gravelly.

"Yeah, they're inside." The boy answered easily as an older man approached the door from behind him.

"Jake, who is it?" The father asked glancing curiously between Sam and Dean.

Dean pulled out his badge and once more flashed it, "Hi, U.S Marshals, sir. We're looking for your son Duane."

Mr. Tanner's eyes flashed, "Wh-why? He's not in trouble, is he?"

Dean lifted a hand up to calm the man, "No, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all."

"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure." Mr. Tanner supplied.

"Well, maybe your wife knows." Sam quipped.

"No, I don't know. She's not here right now."

Dean quirked an eyebrow, "Your son said she was."

Mr. Tanner shrugged, "She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?"

Dean shook his head, smiling nicely; if not baring a few teeth to show his suspicion, "Oh no, we'll just check in with you later."

The two brothers turned and began descending the stairs waiting until they heard the click from the door shutting behind them, "That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford…"

"Big time." Sam answered before joining his brother in glancing around the isolated house so they sneak behind the house to the back.

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I watched as my brothers walked down the steps of the house and once again slammed myself against the leather seat grimacing. I should never plan on giving up this job so I could take up spying. Without a doubt, the CIA would never hire me.

But I did realize my luck when both my brothers disappeared behind the house. Quietly opening the door, I snuck out and quickly but trying my danged to not make a single sound, ran to the side of the house, inching my way towards the back where they were.

Now that I was out of the car, I realized just how dumb my plan was. Did I even bother to plan what my next step would be after sneaking out of the danged car? No. Did I even bother to think up how I would approach my two brothers? No. And quite frankly, jumping out and yelling surprise held no merit, maybe it was the fact that they both had more weapons on them than I had.

Yes, I slept with my gun. But Dean? Every time he would get ready for bed, I would watch him and flinch at all the weaponry he hid around his soon to be sleeping form. What happened if he rolled over and stabbed himself or impaled his eye? Was I the only sensible one?

I shook ahead from my sudden neurotic turn and strained my ears to hear, if anything when I should make my next move. The next thing I heard was a door being kicked down, a few shouts and the deafening sound of gunshots. I knew they were Dean's just like I knew the sound of Dean kicking a door in. What I didn't expect was to see a boy my age throw himself out of the window above my head; land perfectly on his feet and sprint away from the house.

I didn't plan my next move either but I did a quick mental note to myself that I should never chase after someone again with shattered glass all over me. I felt some in my hair, rubbing corrosively against my neck, some in my boots, pants, shirt and damn it; even my bra was welcoming the glass. From now on, I would wear turtlenecks, tighter jeans and boots that were more discriminating towards glass. I felt it scratch all over me and I winced realizing after this chase, I would look like I lost a fight with a cat.

I reached out and my fingers brushed against the boy's shirt and I bit back the urge to wince when I felt a sharp, intense pain in my foot. I heard Sam bellow my name out and I realized he didn't want me to catch this punk; he wanted me to turn around and run back to them. Well, heck if I was going to do that! I was so close to catching this kid and the moment I did, all I wanted to do was slam his face into the ground and make him eat dirt. Teach him to curse and try to outrun me.

I heard my ring tone and the slight vibration from my jean pocket; knowing I had to pick up the phone but it would cost me a few seconds in the chase slowing me down considerably. I sighed, no matter how rebellious I tried to be; I guess it was just in my genetic makeup to care enough about my brothers to be good.

"Yeah?" I asked breathlessly, trying to push myself harder so I could make up the lost distance.

"Get your ass back over here now!" Sam furiously shouted in the phone.

"You want me to stop chasing the bad guy?" I asked wondering where the hell my real brother was. Sam _never_ shouted at me; no matter how angry he was. I stopped dead in my tracks and finally got a good look of my surroundings.

I was in the forest that had been surrounding the boy's house and I was deep into the woods, breathing heavily. "Fine." I clipped out, snapping shut my phone and trying not to swallow the nerves I felt beat harder into my system when I realized there was a faint echo in the woods. I was okay with the Boogeyman but I sure wasn't okay with being alone in a forest.

Before I could even start to get myself worked up in a full grown panic, the pain edged away the adrenaline and I grunted against the more insistent, clearer pain crashing over me. Yup, I was definitely sporting some very painful cuts. I just hoped the glass wasn't embedded too deeply in me.

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Dean threw a glare once more towards his brother, "Did you really have to yell like that?" Dean asked. Any other time, he would have been proud to hear Sam bellow but he was damned if he would be proud to hear that bellow addressed to his sister. But he was sure damned proud of Bella's instincts to try and get the bad guy and damned if he wasn't proud also at how fast she was. Not that he'd ever tell her. He was too angry with her for running off into the forest alone with no backup. Not that Sam had let him go after her. Dean was becoming a real Nancy when it came to his siblings.

"Shut up Dean." Sam snapped over the top of the Impala. He was angry and agitated with Bella when she had been adamant in finding out why he was being so secretive but now he was downright furious with her. How dare she run off like that? They had Jake's mom, Mrs. Tanner wounded and in shock in the back of the car and off she went gallivanting in the woods. After they brought Mrs. Tanner to the local doctor and regrouped; he was going to have it out with her once and for all.

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I knew they were mad the moment I stepped out from the comely shade the woods offered me and into the open dangerous space, facing my two angry brothers. I squinted to try and get a better look at their faces but winced when I was assailed with another wash of pain and this time it was greeted with the knowledge that they weren't just angry. They were downright furious. I made a ping sound and bit out to no one in particular, "Shit just hit the fan."

The moment I stepped into hearing distance, I prepared myself for the yelling and shouting to begin but was shocked to realize that Sam didn't even bother to look at me; he just got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. I noticed a figure sitting in the back seat and tried not to feel too hurt. They let the person have my seat! It took me dang long to finally make that backseat into my mini house. With books, music, even clothing finding its way onto that cluttered seat. Oh well, I guess I should probably start packing anyway.

I got a good look at Dean and at least he paid me heed, "You okay?"

I swallowed the emotion down and focused my brain on the pain; at least then it would clear the fog. I nodded and turned my attention to where I was going to sit. I realized after a brief second that Dean hadn't gotten in yet, even when mad he was still waiting for me. I shook my head at him and his offer of squeezing in between both him and Sam up front and opened the back door to slide in besides the woman. It was going to be a long car ride, wherever we were going.


	10. Croatoan II

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Ten**

**Croatoan Part II**

I watched Sam take Beverly's shoulders and help her into the clinic through narrowed eyes. The entire ride from Beverly's house to the clinic of which we were now parked in front of, Sam had ignored me. Somehow she had changed from a Tanner to Beverly but I still hadn't wanted to know her name, but she still had sought out to make introductions. The less I knew about her, the more I could hate her. It was petty, I knew but damn her and damn Sam for treating her nicely. Whereas he had treated me like some cantankerous leper.

I opened my door and got out of the back seat paying no heed to Dean and what was occupying him in the trunk. I grabbed my bag; which I needed more than ever thanks to all the little shards of glass embedded somewhere on my person and headed inside; waiting behind to hold open the door for Dean.

My eyes bulged slightly when I saw Dean shoulder what was obviously a body wrapped in white linen. He nodded his thanks and walked into the foyer of the clinic. I followed him and forced myself not to try and decipher who was wrapped in there, did I even care to know? If Dean had killed someone or something, I stood behind his decision. He didn't waver but nor did he shoot _just _anything. He was justified or as justified as one could be with taking someone's life.

I shook my head from the sudden philosophical turn and followed behind Dean, paying no attention to the doctor who rushed him with questions about who was wrapped in linen so obviously dead. I walked past them both and walked around the clinic, it was surprisingly large for a small town like this to have.

The last few small towns I had passed through had what seemed like a closet for the doctors to work in, not that I minded. They deserved a doghouse for all the poking and prodding they did. Bastards. I found what I was looking for and shoved open the door. I glanced around the private bathroom and died.

I inhaled, coming back to the beautiful sight of a private bathroom, beautiful and completely furnished with a huge medicine cabinet. I walked in and shut the door behind me, smiling darkly when I slid the lock into place. See if anyone could bother me now.

Time passed and I soon forgot about Sam treating me like cow dung or Dean and his indifference. All I focused on was trying to shake all the glass from my clothes, body and hair so I could dress myself and not stand around naked like a fool.

It had taken me little more than an hour to finally get all the glass out from under my skin and damned if it didn't hurt. I made a mental note to never run around in a forest covered in glass ever again. Dumb and painful. Dumb. And. Painful.

"Bella, open up!" I heard Dean's faint voice; the door didn't even shake under his pounding ministrations.

I glanced at the door appreciating once again the thick metal and realized I was still naked and he still knew how to pick locks. I glanced around furtively and shoved myself into a clean, non-glassed pair of underwear and bra, reaching for a shirt when the door swung wide open.

I was too embarrassed to even think about anyone else in the clinic that might catch me in such an unawares state; I was too busy glaring daggers at Dean.

"Get. Out." I bit out furiously. How dare he be indifferent then have the audacity to pull a stunt like that?

Dean glanced around the room, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, "You sure you're okay? ...You look like a scratching post for cats."

I paid him no heed as I bent and ruffled through my bag to find a pair of pants. I'd even take pajamas than walk around in purple underwear. Though it was more mauve. Dear god, I'm standing almost naked in front of my brother, glass littering the floor and trying to decipher what color my underwear was. Thank you Mom, for your neurosis.

"Did you get all the glass out from your feet?" Dean asked quietly, bending to pick up all my clothes and my bag, placing it on the counter. I watched him wrap my other clothing around a plastic bag before placing it in my duffel. He was trying to be kind! Here I was holding desperately onto my anger and hurt and here he was helping me clean up!

I caught a pair of clean socks he threw my way and began ignoring him again. "When did you get that?"

I glanced up and caught Dean pointing to four-inch scar on my left rib. Ah, the infamous rusty knife scar. That one nearly broke me, with all the cleaning, blood pouring, cursing and the itchy days it took to heal not being able to wear a bra. I had gotten it a few months after I had left them. I still got ghost pains from it.

I shrugged on a shirt not bothering to see if it was dirty or not, just as long as it didn't have glass, I wasn't choosy. "You should have been more careful." Dean muttered. I couldn't decipher what was laced in his words; hurt, anger, guilt, sadness?

Shaking my head from my own emotions, I bit my lip. There were so many things I would have loved to have thrown in his face, '_I never got a chance to hunt by my own so the moment I was alone, and I was careless!_' _'Why do you care?' _

But in that moment, I was tired. Tired of being anything but what I was, of molding myself into what I could never be. I wasn't them, I was too strong to be brokenly free-willed like my mother but too weak to be anything like a Winchester.

"Bella, I—"

I shook my head; I didn't want to hear it. As far as I could see, apologies just didn't cut it anymore. He'd always try to protect me and it would always hurt me because I knew I was capable of protecting myself.

Dean must have read something from my noncommittal shrugs because the next thing I knew, he straightened up and in a voice that only meant business, he told me, "There's something wrong in this town. Do you remember that zombie movie we watched last Sunday?"

My eyes bulged and I nodded biting harder on my lip, gosh, did I ever! It was one of the greatest, scariest zombie movies ever! But that couldn't mean—could it?

"No, not zombies but something like it. Though you don't know if they're about to turn or not." Dean instructed and then I died.

He was letting me in on something! Finally wasn't trying to protect me, it wasn't a lot; it wouldn't make up for the sinking hole I was already drowning in but it did give me a flicker of hope. "Thank you."

He nodded, "I'm heading out—"

Despite my reticence, I caught myself caring, caring a lot where Dean was going, "Where? Why?" I asked curiously. Too curiously and I knew from the smug smile that Dean flashed me, he was onto me too; he knew that though I was still mad, I wasn't blaming him. He was just caught in Sam's antics too.

"I'm going to the next town, forty miles from here; Sidewinder. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I nodded feeling even lower; he was leaving me with Sam. It hit me as a tad ironic then. Sam had always been very near and dear to me, he was the first person to open arms to me and he always stood up for me. Always. Dean was too much like our father that I always did reserve a part of me away from him. I don't know if it was lack of trust or fear but I realized at that moment, they had turned the tables on me.

"Pedal to the metal, dude." I smirked and shared a high five with Dean before he left.

I tried hiding in the bathroom, tried desperately to find intricacies in the plain white sterile surroundings of the room. It was cowardly, I knew that but I didn't want to face Sam yet.

Thankfully the decision was made for me when the bathroom door opened and the doctor from earlier walked in slowly.

"I brought you some water." She said quietly, hand held up to calm me.

I smiled, though I was wounded and hurt by my stupid brother; I sure as heck wasn't a cornered animal. "I don't bite." I joked.

Her face fell and I realized my mistake. Dean had said they were like zombies…oops. "Sorry, that's not what I meant, I meant—"

She shrugged trying to place the smile back on her face, though this time it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's alright, under different circumstances, I'd have laughed but…"

I nodded and took the water she offered, "Thank you." I gulped down half before feeling curious about what was going on beyond these four walls. I asked her careful questions, not wanting to offend her anymore but twisting them around so I could get the gist of everything that I missed; from what had taken place at the Tanner house to when Dean had left.

"So you're saying that…there's this virus that can be passed from blood? That makes them…"

"Like zombies." She shrugged and we shared a quiet smile. I had told her my analogy and she had actually laughed! Zombies…bringing people together and making dire things seem funny.

My mind raced from Duane Tanner, Beverly, the entire dead town and to how Sam had somehow found out and why we were here. In all honesty, what could we do? The town was already done for; we were just endangering ourselves. But how did Sam find out? And why was he so perturbed by this one thing so suddenly?

I thanked the doctor and grabbed my duffel, pretending I wasn't the one whom was to blame for all the glass on the floor. They way I saw it, did it really matter? This town had become obsolete and a few pieces of glass wouldn't matter.

Glancing around me, I took in the details of the empty waiting room. It still bothered me, the doctor; who specifically told me it was okay to call her Dr. Lee, had told me that sulphur was found in the blood stream. Sulphur was the disease, not some hungry amoeba that turned people to ravenous unthinking monstrosities but rather sulphur that turned them to…demons? I shook my head, nah. It sounded plausible but probably was ridiculous. Demon zombies! Ha!

I must have fallen asleep on the questionably comfortable chair in the waiting room, when I heard someone pounding on the locked door of the clinic.

"Mirabella! Open up!"

I jumped to attention and almost stumbled to the front door to unlock it, smiling guiltily at Dean who rolled his eyes, "Falling asleep on the job?"

I grinned chagrined at him, "I should apply to be a security guard."

He snorted and let the man beside him enter first; I moved out of the way letting the man walk by. If I thought my Dad had looked ferocious when he frowned, this man made my dad look like a kitty. Though I knew my Dad could take this guy without blinking.

I glanced questioningly up at Dean, whom shrugged at me in reply. His eyes flickered behind me and I knew Sam had just come out to see what the commotion was. Hiding from him? Who, me?

"Did you guys get to the…phone?" I heard Sam's voice directly behind me and I bit my lip hard. I knew I'd have to get over it eventually but hey, out in the middle of nowhere, if I wanted to be petty, then I'd dammed well be petty. I didn't focus on the fact that I wanted to make him hurt also, to give revenge when I so desperately needed avenging. It was even lower than petty, something dark and twisted that I'd rather not focus on.

I inched away from him, out to the sidelines of where we all were standing and took a seat on one of the chairs.

"Roadblock." Dean answered to Sam. "I'm going to have a word, Doc's inside." Dean quietly murmured to the man beside him.

We all waited until he had left the room before visibly relaxing, "What's going on out there Dean?" Sam asked.

I stared at Dean's shoes alternating the numbingly pleasant view with my own shoes. It had taken all my willpower not to glance at Sam, I wanted to see him. I missed his face, his eyes, I missed him. But he deserved a swift punch and to be shunned.

"Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man, I mean…Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, you know?" I heard Dean move and I felt him sink into the seat next to me, wrapping an arm around me.

I heard Sam clear his voice before continuing, "Doc thinks it's a virus."

I tensed despite myself and I knew Dean noticed, "What do you both think?"

"I think she's right." Sam answered.

"And you Bella?" Dean asked quietly.

If Dean wasn't picking fights with me, he was always trying to console me by placing me into awkward situations. Someday I'd tell him what I thought of that. "It doesn't matter what I think." I quietly answered.

"Bella—" I heard Sam warily say.

I stood up, enough was enough; let the punching commence! "Stop!" I shouted holding both hands up to ward off any interruptions. "I've had it with you trying to protect me, trying to handle me away from what's really going on. People die Sam! I know that! I know the blood that's been spilled to keep the balance and I know how to protect myself!" I yelled furiously. "How can I make you understand? Dad's been trying to do that for years and you left to go to college because you hated it!"

"Dad's dead!" Sam snapped.

"Both of you—" Dean snapped louder.

But I didn't care anymore. After all these years, little incidents and moments that are trying to one's patience and control…well they add up. And for some reason they decided here and now to manifest into rage and turn to blame Sam. "Are you sure about that Sam? Because you're turning out to be a spitting image of the man!" I shouted and stalked off. I didn't let the fact that I had nowhere to go hinder me either. Sometimes for such an exit like that, it takes some spontaneity. And I doubt I'd ever blow up at them like that again. Not when I'd be grounded for years to come by Dean, most likely.

"They've got one! In here!" I heard Mark shout from the hall, standing outside of what was probably the utility room.

"Who?" I asked stepping closer to him so I could try and peer through the small window of the door.

"The wife, she's infected." Sam answered from behind me.

"We're got to take care of this, we can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get." Mark answered back.

I heard Dean walk determinedly to the lab, Mark and Sam having joined them. They were obviously discussing what to do with Mrs. Tanner and for some reason; I knew I had no say in the decision. It would be up to them and for some reason; I wasn't envious of what would come next. I moved away from the locked utility room and began pacing around the clinic feeling trapped. Even an open field would feel confined at this moment. When we killed things, there were reasons; reasons we could see for our own eyes. But when I had glanced through the glass at Mrs. Tanner; dirty, crying inconsolable and crouched in the corner, I began to wonder. Dean had said that one moment they were like us and the next they were raving lunatics. I'd have to trust his word; it was all I really had left.


	11. Croatoan III

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Eleven**

**Croatoan Part III**

I stared through the front window of the clinic, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat when my eyes focused on a small group of people staring at us from across the street, darkness wrapping its fingers around this desolated town. I squinted my eyes trying to decipher what made them different from us. Could it be the bloodied makeshift weapons in their hands? The dazed blood lust gaze that un-wavered? Or the fact that I knew I was sane and I knew I was safe holed up in a clinic with my two brothers and a few other people?

"They can't get in here." I heard a gravelly voice state from beside me. It was Mark, a ferocious man that meant business but somehow had reminded me of my father.

I smiled still staring through the blinds, "I know, my brothers are here." It wasn't meant to boost their egos or as a compliment, it was the truth. No matter what had transpired in the last few hours, the yelling match I had with them or the hurt wrapped around me; it was the truth.

"You're lucky."

I grinned, "That's what they all say."

We both heard a scream and turned to the direction of the lab, cocking our guns in the ready as we made our way to investigate. Pam, the lab technician was freaking out over spilled blood as the doctor and Dean tried calming her. Normally I'd have stayed and conversed with everyone; excluding Sam, but this time I just heaved a shoulder and went back to the window to stare at the demonic zombies as they stared back at me. Hysterical women always brought out the worst in me and zombies always brought out the best.

I bit back a few loud choice words when someone began pounding on the door of the clinic, which was next to where I was standing.

"Hey, let me in! Let me in please!" I heard a voice shout.

I ran to the door and took in his features, he looked like Mrs. Tanner…this must be the elusive Duane Tanner. Just to make sure though, I knew Dean would have had my hide if he found out I opened the door to some unnamed stranger.

"Who are you?" I shouted back, hand poised over the lock.

"Duane Tanner! Who are you? Let me in!" He shouted back.

I opened the lock and withdrew my gun, keeping my eyes out on the street for any zombie people at all times. I heard the sound of rushing footsteps and I knew my brothers and Mark were coming to investigate. I locked the door and stood there a few minutes making sure everything was fine. Or as fine as it could get holed up in the middle of zombie town.

"Duane, are you okay?" I heard Mark ask.

I turned around and glanced to my brothers noticing them talking amongst themselves secretly and I threw a dark glare their way. Bastards. After everything and they were back to whispers! Here I was trying to work past my insecurity issues and they kept dumping more things onto me.

"Who else is here?" Duane asked glancing around the clinic.

I left them all there, deciding it was more important to grab my duffel than to really have a care at what they all were saying. The thing about being depressed, was that at no turn, was hope even available to try to think about. It was like falling in mud and slowly drowning in it. Emotion, strength; everything was hopeless. And though I knew it was pointless, that they were too busy trying to save people to care about little ole' me; it still felt like a slow evisceration. I needed a vacation. Somewhere sunny, maybe then osmosis could work and I'd start to feel better. Alive even.

"My mom!" Duane's shout from inside the lab pulled me from the lulling waves and I winced. I totally knew how he felt, one day she was there and then next pop! Though…my mom hadn't become a zombie…but still.

"It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulphur didn't appear in the blood until then…so…no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns." I heard the faint voice of the doctor.

I glanced at floor, knowing that patience was never my strong suit and found a spot in the corner where I knew no one would find me. I didn't feel like hashing it out with either of my brothers and I sure as heck didn't want the company of strangers either.

I heard two pairs of footsteps walk out from the lab and stand near me; in the hallway's corner, farthest from the lab. I knew immediately that they belonged to both of my brothers and I realized that they hadn't even seen me yet. I curled tighter into myself and clenched my eyes shut…somehow it felt like if I couldn't see them, then they couldn't see me. Silly, I know.

"This is my vision Dean, it's happening." I heard Sam say and then I died.

Visions? Good god, what visions? Why hadn't I known? Is this what they were trying to hide from me? How long had Dean known? Didn't Sam think I could handle that little _tidbit _of information? Why did I have all these questions and people were refusing to acknowledge the answers?

I steadied my breathing and strained to hear what would come next. Though after finding out your brother has visions seemed so…big and everything else seemed so anticlimactic.

"You can't kill him, alright? Not yet. We don't know if he is infected or not." Sam quietly dictated.

"Well, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shoes up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?" Dean snapped caustically. I bit back the urge to grin, there was my brother, snarky and bitingly sarcastic.

For some reason though I felt a strain between both of them and though I wanted Sam to suffer an insurmountable amount of pain for the anguish he had caused me; I didn't want their relationship to fail. They needed each other and when I made my way back to being fine again, I knew they'd have to depend on only each other for support.

"Alright, then we should just keep him tied up, and we should wait and see." Sam tried.

"For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." Dean snapped before I heard him let out a loud sigh, "Hey look man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that."

"It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point." Sam pointed out.

"What does that buy us?" Dean asked.

"A clear conscience, for one!"

"A clear conscience? You call the way you're acting immoral? Sam, you've been treating complete strangers better than you have your own sister. You've been downright disrespectful to her and I've allowed it. But that's my cross to bear. She was always the closest with you and now you've wedged this…thing—" Dean made a gesture towards the clinic with his hand, "between you both. I don't know why your loading all your shit on her but she doesn't deserve it and its not her problem that you're like this."

"Why I'm like this?" Sam snapped shoving Dean, "How about you huh?

"What?" Dean asked warily.

"You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there."

"Hmm-mm." Dean made a noncommittal sound.

I heard a terse shuffle and the next thing I knew, Sam was on the ground besides me and Dean was walking tensely back across the hall to wherever Duane was.

I glanced at Sam on the ground, having been hurled at the wall and he must have realized that he wasn't alone and glanced my way, shocked to see eyes glaring back his way. I got up as quickly as I could and ran towards the locked door. I glanced inside and took everything in a stride. Duane tied to a chair, Mark and the doctor watching Dean warily and Pam crying.

I felt Sam move behind me and reach above my head to pound on the door. "Dean, come on! Unlock this door!" Sam shouted.

I didn't understand what Sam's 'vision' had entailed but it must have involved Dean killing Duane. I didn't want Dean to randomly kill someone just because he was _probably_ infected. I was suddenly torn between the saving a few or saving yourself. I didn't know what Dean would do and I was suddenly more nervous about how this would affect Dean than for the stupid Duane tied to a chair.

I began pounding on the door with Sam but for a different reason. I needed to see Dean, I needed to see if he was okay with having to make the toughest decisions; I just needed to know if he was going to be alright.

Then I heard it. The most beautiful sound to my ears, the click of the door being unlocked. I lost my balance but caught myself before I could face plant in front of everyone. Dean stalked by us, not even bothering to glance at either Sam or I. Sam shouldered past me to enter the room where Duane had now began crying alongside Pam.

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I found myself sometime later, sitting beside Dean and cleaning both his gun and mine. I hadn't bothered to ask jerk-face Samuel nor did I even glance his way when he sat down at the table with us. Dean was busy making homemade explosives and soon Sam began helping too. It would have been a nice family moment if; we all weren't playing with deadly weapons, weren't mad at either one or all of us, oh and the kicker? Stuck in the middle of zombie town.

I heard the doctor approach and I bit back a sigh, what other great news was there that could be had? "It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's all right." The doctor gently asked us…well, more likely asked Dean and Sam.

"Yeah, sure." Sam answered waiting a pregnant pause for the doctor to leave before going back to making his explosives. "You know I'm going to ask why."

Dean grunted.

"Why?" Sam asked.

I glanced up at Dean not really sure what he would say. "We need more alcohol." Dean grumbled.

I heard Sam sigh, get up and head towards the lab and I waited for him to close the door before turning my attention to my other brother beside me. "Hey, Dean?"

"Huh?" Dean grunted.

I squinted at the gun in my hand trying to compose myself; "You know I love you right?"

Dean glanced quickly at me before turning his attention back to the explosives, "Uh, yeah."

"Just in case you forgot." I shrugged, so much for eloquence. "It's just…you make me proud to call myself a Winchester. And…well, I think you're a great brother."

He slowly turned towards me and enveloped me in a crushing hug; the entire time I kept repeating my mantra, _I will not cry, I will not cry. I will not cry. _

But I failed and we both realized that when I sniffled.

I don't know how long we sat there, him holding me as I let the tears try and cleanse me. I don't really know if I felt cleansed after all my blubbering but I felt composed; more at ease with the all the emotional things that have happened as of late. I felt like I could leave them both behind and be okay with that decision, that they didn't really need me. I felt okay with Sam…I wasn't happy about what he had done or was still trying to do but after all he had always been there for me. And even though he was trying to push me away, I understood now that he was just panicking and maybe he didn't like what he saw every time he looked in the mirror. Maybe if I survived this, I would go my own way and think things through, see if maybe I was happier with them than not. But right now, I just didn't know anymore.

We pulled apart when we heard a crash coming from the lab and a few shouts. I jumped up from my seat and sprinted alongside Dean to the locked laboratory door. I glanced in the window of the door and began cursing. The stupid Pamela technician was straddling Sam and I knew it wasn't what it looked like they were doing. After all when people had sex, surely they didn't do so with punching and a scalpel right?

"Get back Bella!" Dean cursed heaving towards the door.

I shoved myself forward, making sure that Mark wouldn't be the first person in the room. If she were hurting my brother, I'd kill her. Simple as that. I withdrew my gun and cocked it, waiting for Dean to finally kick the door down. I ran ahead of them and fired four shots in Pamela's back. And danged if I didn't get a lick of satisfaction from it.

Sam pushed the dead weight off him and glanced up between Dean and I, a worried expression on his face. I lowered my gun and took in the scene before me. I saw a bright flash of red on Sam's bare chest and denial, anger and guilt slammed into me. He wasn't infected…right?

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I watched the faces of the people in the room; the doctor staring nervously at Sam, who was now sitting up on the examination table with a cold compress to his chest. Mark was hanging by the wall, a fierce expression on his face. Duane…well, he always looked antsy. I didn't bother pacing, I couldn't. It was like I was cemented to the ground, sadly besides the doctor. I watched Dean prowl around the room and I felt better. If I couldn't react, Dean would.

All I wanted to do was cry, to mourn and grieve even though I still didn't want to believe that Sam was infected. We could make it work, we always made things work.

"Doctor, check his wound again, would you?" Dean ordered eyes still trained on Sam.

I gulped and glanced sideways at the Doc when it seemed like she was happier leaving him to rot rather than go near him, "Doctor." I snapped.

"Why does she have to examine him for anyways? You saw what happened." Mark retorted.

I barely gave him a glance; I figured Dean's glare said enough. "Did her blood actually enter your wound?" The doctor asked.

"Come on, of course it did!" Mark shouted.

"We don't know that for sure." Dean shouted back.

"We can't take a chance. You know what we have to do." Duane added and my eye began to twitch. Damn them. I know Dad always taught me to be respectful to others but damn it, I couldn't take biting my tongue anymore.

"No one is shooting my brother!" I shouted. Sam whipped his attention to me and I smiled at him. No matter what, I'd die for him and damned if anyone was going to take him away. I still owed him an ass kicking.

"He's not going to be your brother for much longer! Your brother said it himself." Duane retorted and suddenly I wished Dean had shot him.

"No one is shooting anyone!" Dean yelled.

"You were going to shoot me!"

"You don't shut your pie-hole and I still might!" Dean yelled back. I broke away from the doctor and the rest of them to go stand next to Sam. The poor guy was all alone sitting on the table and everyone was standing across the room from him.

The doctor tried grabbing my hand back but I prevailed and took a spot close to him, breathing his comforting scent deeply. Gosh, I'd missed him so.

"Dean, they're right." Sam quietly said. I whipped my head to stare up at him, studying every facet of his face. He couldn't be giving up, could he?

"I'm infected, just give me the gun and I'll do it myself." Sam added more sternly.

"Forget it."

"No way in hell." Dean and I said simultaneously.

"Dean, Bella, I'm not going to become one of those things!" Sam snapped.

"Sam, we've still got some time!" Dean added.

"Time for what? Look I understand he's your brother and I'm sorry," Mark told both Dean and I, "but I've got to take care of this." He finished pulling out his gun.

On pure instincts alone, I pulled my gun out and trained it on his feet, "I'll say this one time. You make a move on him and you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me?" I finished in a near shout. Sorry Dad, but I could always be respectful tomorrow. "Do I make myself fucking clear?" I bellowed.

"Bella!" Sam shouted.

"What are we supposed to do?" Mark shouted to me.

I barely registered Dean riffling through his coat but I saw him throw something to Mark and watched the bastard catch it. It took me a minute to realize Dean had thrown Mark his car keys. "Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my sister." He finished to Mark before glancing at me, "You've got explosives, and you'll have enough fire power to take them out."

I swallowed back tears and glanced to the strangers in the room. Dean expected me to go with them? "Dean?" I asked tearfully unsure if I was hearing things.

"What about you?" Mark asked Dean. Did I have no say in this?

"Dean, no. No. Go with them, this is your only chance. Take care of Bella." Sam pleaded.

I stood besides the doctor, having moved away from both of my brothers to try and compose myself. Where they going to abandon me too? What the hell?

"You're not going to get rid of me that easy." Dean said.

"He's right man. Come with us." Mark implored sharing a look between the three of us. "Okay, it's your funeral."

Before I had a chance for anything I felt the doctor grab my hand and begin to slowly pull me towards the door. I firmly planted my feet, glaring openly up at my brothers, "Okay, I'm sorry, alright? I know I've been childish and petty but you're going to let complete strangers take me away? Why?" I asked louder than I meant. I couldn't look at them anymore, I was so hurt and I knew they were hurting too, which pained me. Mark came over to help drag me out and I dared one last look behind me. Dean looked helpless and Sam, oh my Sam looked so devastated.

I didn't really have a plan but I knew with every fibre of my being that I'd die before I would let complete strangers pull us apart. And hell, I'd be an adult soon in a mere few weeks; I think I could make up my own mind by now.

I grappled and pulled, shoving myself away from them. I think Mark realized it was a lost cause because he stopped trying to pull me out of the room but the good doctor still tried. I couldn't like her but her actions were still admirable. Trying to save someone when they didn't want to be saved. I ran into the room and locked the door behind me. I refused to look at them. It was amazing what us Winchesters did to each other.

"Bella—" Sam tried.

"Stop. I've endured so much from you Sam and I don't want to anymore. I'm here because _I_ want to be here. I'm done with people trying to do what's right for me." I said pointedly to both of them. I sighed and found an empty chair closest to the wall and farthest away from them, gladly taking it.

"I wish we had a deck of cards or something." Dean said trying to break the ice.

"You guys…don't do this." Sam whispered out.

My heart clenched, "Sam, did you ever think that this is how we'd want it to be? I know I'd want to go down with my heroes."

Dean gave me a small smile, "What about Batman?"

I gave an indignant grunt, "As if that sucker was ever that cool."

"Hey, don't knock the Batman!" Dean huffed.

"Just get the hell out of here." Sam tried again.

Dean and I sighed; it was no use. We both knew we couldn't and wouldn't keep the charade going.

"No way." Dean said.

"Give me my gun and leave." Sam bit out.

"For the last time Sam, no." Dean muttered.

Sam slammed his hand down on the table and I jumped. I couldn't help it; Sam had never done something like that before in my presence but recently, I was starting to see a new Sam. A Sam that made me miss the one I grew up with.

"This is the dumbest thing you've both ever done." Sam commented.

Dean stared at him a full minute before responding, "I don't know about that. Bella running around with glass in her shoes? That was _smart._ Bella playing in poison ivy when she was six? Bella making mud pies and leaving them in Dad's duffel when she was five—"

"Five and a half." I enunciated. "Or how about the time Dean almost forgot me in the back of the car when he went to the bar? Or when he gave me a gun for my sixth birthday?"

"Hey, it was a nice gun!" Dean threw me a shocked offended look.

I smiled, "It _was _a nice gun."

"Dean, Bella. I'm sick; it's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you both. You keep going." Sam said tearfully.

It took all my willpower not to go to him; I knew if I did he would push me away. He had to let the fight out before he accepted comfort; it was the way I was too.

"Who says I want to?" Dean bit out sadly.

I felt the earth shatter beneath me and I turned my attention to him, not even bothering to fight back the tears. They hurt, I hurt…it was like a huge hurt fest and why? Because we were Hunters, because we were Winchesters. It was what we were born to do, ingrained in us; for better and for worse and we hated it.

"Dean?" I asked, my voice hoarse from holding back the sobs.

Dean took out his gun from his jeans and sat down on a metal cabinet, facing us both, "I'm tired. I'm tired of this job, I'm tired of this life…this weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it."

"So what, you're just going to give up?" Sam asked. "I mean, you're just going to lay down and die. Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad had—"

"You're wrong. Its not about Dad…I mean, a part of it sure but—"

"Then what's it about?" Sam asked.

We heard the clinic door open and slammed shut, I was on my feet in two seconds flat with my gun out. I went to the door seeing the doctor's face looking back at me and I unlocked it.

"You better come see this." The doctor greeted us with.

I switched the gun to the other hand; thankful Dad had been so adamant about making us learn to shoot with both hands. I glanced between Sam and Dean unsure of who needed me more. At this point, I couldn't afford to go to one and leave the other hanging. I sighed and trailed after the doctor, wishing I had the guts and courage like they did.

"There's no one. Not anywhere…they've all just—vanished." The doctor said to all of us; Mark, Duane, Sam, Dean and I.

I moved closer to Dean and latched onto his hand, so thankful he tightened his grip on mine. I stared out onto the darkened road outside the clinic, feeling nervous. Wasn't this the part in zombie movies where they think they're alone but they're not? Oh, gosh how I wished we were alone. I didn't feel like parting with my limbs tonight.

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"Well, it's been five hours and you're bloods clean." The doctor told Sam, wheeling away from her microscope.

When I had approached Sam in the examination room, he had made room for me to join him up on the table. We didn't say anything, at this point…what was there to say? He offered me a hand and I took it, once again grateful that we were alive.

"How could that be? I was exposed." Sam said. "How could I not be infected?"

"I don't know but you're just not." The doctor smiled. "I mean when you compare it with the Tanner's samples…" She made a shocked sound after she had once again begun studying the blood samples under the microscope.

"What? What is it?" I asked more forceful than I had meant to.

She pulled away from the microscope, glancing between the both of us, "The blood. There's no trace of the virus, no sulphur…nothing."

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By the time we had finally gotten ready to go it was already early morning and I was leaning more heavily into Sam's side than I had intended too. I could always be independent, self-reliant tomorrow.

I watched Duane and Mark drive off from sleep deprived dry eyes. "What about him?" Dean asked the doctor motioning to Sam.

"He's going to be fine, no signs of infection." The doctor said.

I felt like speaking up and saying goodbye, though I had tried not liking her, I already felt myself closer to her than I would have liked. She was a strong woman and damned if I didn't want to leave her in this deserted place. "Hey Doc?" I asked from Sam's arms.

She glanced at me with a small smile on her face, "Yes, Mirabella?"

"Thanks…you know…for—" I couldn't finish the sentence because I had actually forgotten what I had meant to say. Sometimes exhaustion overrides even the basic skills.

She shared a smile with my two brothers, "You take good care of her." She nodded once more.

"Alright Bella, you can go to sleep now." Sam quietly said to me, his gentle hand pushing all the stray hair out of my face.

I stared sleepily up at him, "No, we…talk now."

I heard Dean laugh somewhere behind me, "Yes, all of us will. But first you need to get some sleep, you sound like Sam after he's had too much to drink."

All I remember before I gladly succumbed to the black darkness was hearing my brothers' bicker and danged if that wasn't the best sound in the world.


	12. Swimming in Indecision

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Twelve**

**Swimming in Indecision**

"What are you going to have, darling?" A voice above my head asked.

I glanced from the diner menu and tried smiling politely; I knew it didn't work the moment she took a step back from me, "Uh, the daily special. Thanks." I watched her briskly walk back to the counter and I knew I should have at least practiced my smiles before I left.

It was early, too early for my liking but after I had fallen asleep just as we finished our last hunt, I slept like the dead. All I really remember from my long hours of slumber was someone holding me. Cocooning me and I felt safe. I felt loved and for a moment, I forgot about all of the world's woes and just felt like me again.

All the peaceful thoughts left me abruptly when I awoke this morning, realizing it was Sam whom had held me and I realized I was still hurt by him. I wasn't angry anymore. It came to a point that I just couldn't hold onto my anger; it was pointless. It was pointless because I knew us Winchesters were always going to be angry but it wasn't smart to be angry at each other. Dad had taught me that and I knew he was right. Not being angry didn't mean I wasn't hurting. Because I was. Fiercely.

I had sneaked out to a diner we had past driving into town in the early hours of the morning, hesitating when I glanced back and saw my two brothers still sleeping. I was torn, I wanted to leave, I had to leave but I didn't want to either. I wanted to stay put and just keep rolling along with them but I knew I couldn't. There was just too much of my mother in me to idly stand by and keep all the emotions in me. If I didn't leave, I had a feeling that I would lose my self-respect, that I'd lose everything I worked so hard to create for myself.

I left my things in my duffel by the hotel door, a sign that could have meant that I'd be by to pick it up before I left or that I was coming back. I was just as undecided as ever. Sam had said he wanted to talk and probably explain things to me. But I didn't need them explained. After everything us Winchesters had been through, in a small distinct way, I understood why he had done those things.

I finally understood why Dad had left us so many times; I finally understood why my mom took herself away from me. It was an epiphany of sorts, of me knowing that I've finally hit adulthood. I now saw things in a light that made me realize whatever 'it' was, 'it' was bigger than any of us. Sometimes I just wished I could go back to being a blind child and never worry about any of this.

I wanted to go back to hating my Mother; for never caring like she should, for killing herself when she had a daughter in the next room. I wanted to hate my Father, for screwing us kids up more than he could ever imagine. I wanted to hate Dean for putting random strangers, random women ahead of his own sister. I wanted to hate Sam, for never fighting for me, for leaving and screwing Dean up more than any of us had thought. But most of all, I wanted to hate _something, anything_ to just get this slight rage out of my system.

I was so confused. One minute I wasn't angry and the next I was, one minute I understood their actions and the next, I condemned them. Sam had left because he had no other choice, just like I had. Dean had begun using people so he could feel some sort of control over things. Dad had left because he was trying to protect us…and Mom? Mom had left me because she couldn't fight anymore. See? I understood; I didn't want to, but I did. In quiet reservation, I did.

My phone rang and I picked it up from the table reading the caller ID, _Dean._ I sighed, I wasn't angry anymore. But I was still hiding like a coward. "Hello?" I asked clearing my throat from the bombardment of emotions.

"Where are you? Tell me and I'll come pick you up." Dean ordered but something in his voice changed. When he first had found me, he was angry. Now, he sounded desperate.

"Dean…I'm sorry. I just need time alone." I answered.

I heard Dean curse, "It'll just be me."

I nodded, seemingly happy with that and told him where I was. I snapped the phone shut and smiled at the waitress when she placed down my order. I rattled two more breakfast specials, I knew Dean would be hungry and he could take the other one to go for Sam. I might still be confused about my feelings toward Sam, but I was still his sister and I would try my best to take care of him.

I didn't have to wait long. In a few short minutes, Dean burst through the door, glaring around the room until his eyes found mine. In a brisk stride he was already at the table, glaring down at me. The moment he took a seat, I began eating. What can I say? I'm nothing if not polite.

He smirked and we both settled into a quiet lull, eating and thinking amongst ourselves. "You know you'll have to forgive him at one point." He commented taking another bite of bacon.

I reached over and snatched a piece of toast from his plate, "I know, Dean. It's just…he lied to me." I said trying desperately to hold onto a reason to be so sad. Maybe I couldn't help it; I was after all my Mother's daughter.

"Dad lied to us." He shrugged, "Every single day."

I shrugged uncomfortably and bit hard on my lip, "I don't know anymore. I mean, c'mon Dean. How would you feel if he lied to you about something big like this?" I asked trying desperately to articulate the swirling confusion in my head.

"Mirabella, we're family and yes, he might have screwed up but _we_ have to forgive at some point." Dean said in a very unlike Dean way.

I nodded, pondering what he had said. I didn't hear him leaving and I barely heard the roar of the Impala. I was in my own world. Between caring so much, I was starting to feel like maybe I shouldn't even care at all any longer. We had our health, right?

"Can I have a seat?" I heard a voice ask and I glanced up dying. It was now or never.

I swallowed and nodded biting hard on my lip, it was a bad habit but we all had our vices and this one was mine.

"Bells—I know you don't understand why I did what I did…" He began and I leaned back in my chair.

"I do." I shrugged going back to gnawing on my lip.

He tore his sad eyes away from staring at the table to trying to figure out what betraying emotion was swimming in my eyes. I cleared my throat, "In some sick, twisted Winchester way, you were trying to protect me…right?" I asked hesitantly.

He nodded, smiling earnestly, "I know it was dumb. It was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. But you're my little sister, you'll always be my little sister and I don't know. I just was trying to shield you away from it all."

"Sam…I'm not a kid anymore." I quietly commented. It was true, though I still had so much to learn. We still had so much more growing to do.

"I know Bells. And the entire time I was treating you horribly, I kept thinking 'this is so wrong' but I couldn't control myself. I was spiraling down and the entire time, I couldn't stop. I wanted to though." He expressed sadly.

And I laughed. Being the mature woman that I was, I laughed. Hey, I'm too much like Dean for my own good. Sam glared at me, wiping any traces of tears from his eyes, "What's so damn funny?" He demanded.

I shrugged, reaching for my glass of orange juice, "You sound like a PSA for Alcoholics Anonymous."

He threw Dean's crumpled napkin at me, "You're a jerk."

I smiled broadly. He wasn't angry, if he was angry he'd be frowning instead of chuckling to himself. "So, I'm forgiven that easily?" He asked hopefully noticing my wide smile.

And I grabbed my glass from his hand, "Just because I said I understood, doesn't mean you're easily forgiven."

He frowned to himself and sat back watching me nibble on the slices oranges. I never understood that, why did they always have to ruin a terrifically greasy breakfast with a few orange slices? Damn oranges. I knew at one point or another, Sam would leave again. I just knew it, just like I knew Dad would leave whenever he promised to me that he would come back. It was in our genes but I had to change that. Screw destiny. I wouldn't desert Dean a second time around.

We finished up and I accepted the hand he outstretched to me. Sam was my comfort, he was my shield and whenever I was near him; I simply forgot about all those nights I spent awake because I missed him so.

"Where's Dean?" I asked glancing around the parking lot, squinting against the morning sun.

He shrugged, tugging me along, "I don't know. C'mon, we'll walk back."

I didn't bother telling him it was quite far; I didn't want to ruin the moment and sometimes, we needed our alone time. We spoke quietly to each other, Sam telling me about his dead girlfriend Jessica and I told him what it was like hunting by myself. I never spoke about it before to anyone, except for Bobby and by Sam's tightening of the hand, I knew he wouldn't let me go ever again. And I was glad. I didn't want to go.

It was probably around noon by the time we made it back and a small pool of sweat settled under my shirt. He let me go ahead of himself and I walked across the salt threshold thinking nothing of today. Thinking nothing of what I should have remembered.

"Happy birthday!!!" I heard them both shout, Dean jumping away from the door, throwing streamers in my face.

Before I knew it was Dean, I reacted. I was a hunter above all else and it had taken me a while to go with my instincts. And my instincts this time grabbed Dean by his shirt with my knife in my hand. In all honesty, I was surprised just as they were. I had no recollection of grabbing my knife.

He smiled over the top of my head to Sam, "Our sister is all grown-up now, man. And look, she's faster than you!" He said proudly, dislodging his shirt from under my grasp.

I shook myself out of my stupor and threw the knife beside Dean's keys on a table, "You both did this?" I asked shell-shocked.

Sam high-fived Dean, "Hell yes! Happy Birthday Bells." He kissed the top of my head, moving past me.

Without thinking I threw myself at Dean, "Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you!"

"We might have missed a few birthdays in the past, but not this one."

I pulled away from him frowning slightly, "Are you sure? What day is it?"

Sam laughed, grabbing a stack of movies from the table to saunter over to us, "March twenty-third."

I laughed, "Okay, so I forgot the days. Whatever." I glanced around the motel room and I felt my throat constrict. Streamers and balloons were everywhere. Along with a makeshift banner screaming in weird looking letters that it was my birthday. I glanced at my bed I shared with Sam and saw a stack of presents. Dear god, they were trying to kill me with their sweetness.

I looked up at both of them, letting the tears fall, "Thank you both so much." I launched myself at them.

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I grinned broadly. When was the last time I felt this happy? Probably my sixth birthday when Dean and Sam had tried making me a cake and more of it was on them then on the plate. They knew I hated when people sang happy birthday to me and this time around, they did so loudly and more…impishly. It was hilarious and I found myself giggling to the sights of them.

We had spent the better part of the day in bed watching a string of my favourite movies, even some chick flicks! They had surprised me once more with my favourite for dinner, chocolate cake and pizza. Even their gifts were so thoughtful. Dean had given me a matching gun; the one that I always admired whenever he waved his around. He gave me a leather jacket, a few more awesome t-shirts and a huge bag of peanut butter M&Ms. When I told him I didn't even like them, he shrugged, grinning. I realized they were for him and steeled myself to start munching away on them.

Sam had given me a necklace but being Sam, it wasn't diamonds or anything. It was a protection amulet. He also gave me an engraved knife, a journal and a new case for my laptop.

After watching movies and opening gifts, we were starving. We settled ourselves around the kitchen table and ate cold pizza with cake. It was a great birthday. But I should have known, something would ruin it.

"So Bells, any big plans for yourself?" Dean asked over a gulp of beer.

I shrugged, "I don't know. Dad always said he'd—" And I shook my head.

Sam leaned closer, "What, Bella?"

"He always promised me he'd take me back to see my Mom's grave." I quietly confessed and up until that point I hadn't realized how much I really wanted closure.

Sam and Dean both shared a long look, "All right. I think we can manage that. Are you sure?" Dean asked quietly. Unlike him, I wanted to see the finality of my Mom's resting place. I needed the comfort in knowing that she had actually existed, that I had a normal life before she took it away from me. I needed to know that I wasn't angry with her any longer.

I nodded suddenly wishing that she could see me now. Us Winchesters sure had a lot of baggage when it came to our respective mothers. "I wish Dad was here." I quietly confessed. Look at me; I was getting more angst than Sam! There was a reason why I hated birthdays. They made me maudlin.

"I know, Bella. He spoke about you all the time." Dean told me.

"Was he in pain…when he died?" I asked suddenly. I never knew, all I knew was from what Bobby said. I loved the guy but sometimes he tried shielding me away from hurtful things.

Sam leaned back abruptly, "Dean…?"

Dean nodded wearily, reaching over to grab my hand, "Go ahead, tell her."

And they told me. They told me everything. From Yellow-eyes to how their mom died, to Dean being hunted down by Death; Dad making a deal and selling his soul to save Dean. I knew we were messed up. Heck, my own birthday and I wanted to hash my Dad's death up. But this? This was twisted, even to me.

"Are you saying Dad…?" I asked unsure if I heard Sam correctly. He sadly nodded and I stood up hugging him. "I'm sorry Sam. I should have been there."

I moved to Dean and he hugged me tight. I didn't bother saying any words. With Dean, I always felt like words weren't needed. "Since we're being so honest—" Dean started waiting for me to nod and move back to my own chair.

"What?" I asked glancing between the two.

Dean cleared his throat, "Before Dad died—he told me something. Something about you Sam." And I realized this conversation was going to be hurtful and dangerous. And just like that, I realized in my Dad's time of dying he never even worried about me. I was thankful in a way. He had so many other things to carry on his shoulders.

Sam glanced at us both, "What? What did he say?"

Now, normally this kind of conversation would be highly frowned upon in normal people's houses. Having this conversation on someone's birthday would be outright taboo. But for us? It was the norm. It wouldn't feel like a birthday if there weren't any angst.

"He said he wanted to watch out for you, to take care of you." Dean said gently, squeezing tighter.

"He told you that a million of times." Sam shrugged.

"No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you." Dean said cryptically.

"Save him from what?" I asked knowing I had no right to this conversation…what was I saying? Of course I did. I was their danged sister!

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered and that if I couldn't…I…" He swallowed audibly.

"That you what Dean?" Sam asked and I tightened my grip on his hand too.

"That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy." Dean confessed.

"Kill him?" Incredulously I shook my head, trying to make sure that I _had_ indeed heard him correctly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Dean?" Sam asked, voice raising an octave.

"I don't know." Dean shoulders slumped.

My shoulders joined his in defeat and for once in my life, I didn't bother saying anything. I would normally have jumped to both of their aide, but this time? Damn my Father. Damn him.

"I mean, he must have had some reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark side or something? What else did he say?" Sam asked itching for more.

"Nothing. That's it. I swear." Dean voiced quietly.

"How could you have not told me that?" Sam asked hurt

"Because it was Dad. He begged me not to."

"Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!" Sam shouted.

I shoved myself away from the table, letting the chair fall. I ripped my hands from their grasps and stared down at them both, "You think Dean wanted this Sam? Dad had no right! No freaking right to do that to Dean! On his goddamn deathbed. For what? To tear you both apart?" I shouted.

Sam stared down at his hands, "He should have told me sooner."

"So you can act this way?" I contended.

"I wish to god he never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have it screaming in my head all day." Dean quietly murmured.

Sam shoved himself away from the table, "We've just got to figure out what's going on then, like what the hell this all means."

Dean stood up, "We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while. It'd be safer and that way I can make sure—"

"What, that I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of psycho killer?" Sam mocked throwing it in Dean's face.

"He never said that." I quietly stated.

"Oh, stop it Bella!" Sam snapped.

Dean glowered at Sam, grabbing my arm and hauling me behind him, "Don't start on her again, Sam."

"Jeez, if you're not careful, you'll have to waste me on day, Dean." Sam mocked ignoring me.

I wasn't surprised. It always happened as such. My Mom used to fight with my grandmother and every time, one of them would use me to hurt the other. If my Dad had been fighting with one my brothers; it would be the same way. I was younger; I wasn't really a Winchester, Dad had seen me as a hindrance and used me as a pawn. Why would I be surprised?

"I never said that! Damn it Sam, this whole thing spinning out of control, all right? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me; I get it. But you have no reason to be at Bella. Be pissed at me, that's fine, I deserve it. We lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it." Sam moved away from us.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm, "Sam, please man. Hey, please? Just give me some times. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here."

I watched Sam nod reluctantly heading for the direction of his bed and I lowered my head. I went to the couch silently, grabbed my presents and left, quietly clicking the door shut. For me, it was never a slammed door that did more hurt; it was the quiet click of a door closing in reservation that unnerved me the most. If disappointment and sadness had a sound; it'd be that click.

I sat outside by our room door, laying all my gifts out; except of course for the knife and gun. I left those on the couch; I'm not _that_ dumb. It had always been my habit to spend two days staring at gifts I received, it was my own ritual that I'd done since I was a child. Why break it now? Eighteen didn't mean anything to me.

I shrugged on my new leather jacket and smiled, Dean must have sprayed his cologne on it. I hated the smell of new leather and being the kindhearted brother he was, he broke it in for me. I clasped the necklace on my neck and smiled sadly to myself.

I don't really know how long I sat outside for, the sun was dipping lazily down and there was suddenly a bite to the air. I burrowed deeper into my leather jacket, ignoring the door opening and closing.

"Bella. Come inside." Dean quietly urged.

I shook my head and he sighed, joining me on the cold ground, "Please don't be mad at me." He pleaded, reaching for my hands to warm them; "I couldn't take it if you were mad at me too." His voice broke.

I threw myself in his lap, hugging fiercely. If I could just hold onto him and take away his hurt, I'd sell myself just to make him smile again. Sell myself? Oh dear god, I was starting to sound like Dad! "I'm not mad at you Dean. I'm hurt by Dad; I'm hurting for both of you. I'm sorry you had this on your chest, I'm sorry I was never there for you."

We held each other and he didn't mention my tears soaking his shirt and I didn't mention his tears falling on my head. After a while, we settled and both sat staring dully out at the parking lot.

"You know, you were always with me." Dean commented unblinkingly.

I glanced sideways at him, "Huh?"

He gave me a small smile and reached out to pull his sleeve up. It was a bracelet I made him when I was younger and I smiled at him. He proceeded to break my heart when he pulled his wallet out and handed it to me. Inside was the note I had scrawled in leaving and a picture of my toothy grin and me when I was ten.

I wiped away my tears and smiled up at him, "This is the longest chick flick moment ever." We both smiled.

Our family was teetering on an open ledge; an edge that I knew could easily overpower us. Between the last couple of days, I had enough angst to power a soap opera for the next couple of years. I didn't know what our future held and more than ever, I wish we could just go back. But I knew that we couldn't. I was slowly starting to lose myself in hunting, lose more feelings that I could afford to let go of. I needed them both; I needed them more than I needed to breathe. Not even a yellow-eyed demon could take away my love for my brothers.


	13. Hunted I

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_I know I've said this before and I'll probably have to keep repeating myself, but __**Thank-You!**__ Sometimes I tend to question this whole process but I realize; I write for you. If no one reviewed, I wouldn't write. It's a simple equation but I wanted to make sure that you, the reader, knows that. So without anything further, here you go._

_**W**__e don't see things as they are; we see them as we are. ~Anaïs Nin_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Hunted **

I woke startled, heart pounding in my chest; with bleary eyes I squinted trying to see what in heck had awoken me. It was early yet; early enough that I knew the dew hadn't even settled on the grass outside. The motel room was shrouded in the eerie glow that came from early hours, where the sun was about to awaken and the moon had not yet fallen asleep.

I shook my head, about ready to fall back into the comfort of slumber. I reached out expecting to feel Sam; he had always been my teddy bear in situations like this and felt the empty space next to me. I frowned; he probably went to go get the newspaper or something. But something still nagged me. The conversation we had last night still bothered me. Sam wouldn't leave us like that, would he?

Bolting up in bed, I felt something flutter down from my chest and settle on my lap; it was a note. Dear god, it was a note! I read the contents and frowned darkly, shaking whatever was left of my slumber from my bones. He had left, though he left a note behind, but he still broke Dean's promise. For what? Because of something he might become? Bullcrap, we made our own destinies and we could face danger united rather than on our own.

I stumbled to Dean's bed and shook him awake, there were no words that I really needed to say; somehow he knew. Dean always knew.

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He was gone.

It was as simple and complicated as that.

I tried looking on the bright side; I tried telling myself that Sam had left on good accord. But whom was I kidding? I could tell by Dean's frowns that he was just as angry and hurt as I was. And leaving a note to me? I saw the point of it; so that he wasn't really 'abandoning' me, he just had to think some things out for himself. But to me? Utter lies and disillusionment. Who was he kidding? We all had things that were bothering us, we all had our own baggage but especially after our last hunt, I would have thought Sam of all people would at least try to fix our bridge of communication.

"You going to eat that?" Dean asked over a mouthful of what appeared to be French fries.

I swallowed down my thoughts, "What?"

He motioned to my full plate, "You haven't touched anything."

And I had no intentions of doing so either. It was in my genetic makeup to fuss and overly worry about things until I couldn't even function and it was something I sure as heck wouldn't change. I frowned harder at my heaping plate; hoping, wanting anything for this nightmare to be over with.

Dean sighed, having swallowed the mass that had been in his mouth. I watched him with uninterested eyes as he pushed his plate away disgusted. Which told me he was very worried…Dean never, _ever_ pushed away his basic 'needs'. Or so he once told me. "I know you're worried Bells, but you have to be strong."

I ran my hand roughly through my hair, it was so much easier said than done. How could I be strong? Maybe if I tried hard to be normal again, to function properly, that would ease his mind and maybe then, just maybe, we could gain our strengths from each other. It was plausible and weak at best, but I had nothing else. I nodded to him, coming to terms with the gravity of our situation, "All right, Dean." He didn't move until after I had begun quietly eating, the entire time trying to quiet the screaming voice in my head; that it wasn't right, it wasn't okay that here I was eating a meal with my brother and my other one could very well be dead.

We ate quietly Dean and I. Which was a rarity for us; we usually always did things whilst eating. Whether it were in the form of blaring music into our ears, flipping through the television or plainly conversing together. It was a sad realization, something so sudden and swift that my body ached from keeping the tears in. There was an elephant in the room and it was traipsing around, teetering dangerously on a thin rope. I just hoped it would leave us by tonight. Though I knew sleep wouldn't come easy to me. Not by a long shot.

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I stared at my reflection in the mirror and barely paid heed to the conversation I heard in the next room. Dean had spoken to an Ellen and though I knew he would never, in his right mind, gladly remain tied to a woman, I still couldn't squelch the mischievous glint my eyes were harboring.

I pushed open the bathroom door and leaned against the doorjamb, giving him an unimpressed look. He finally had changed into his pajamas and was pacing around the room muttering to himself. Any other time and I would have laughed. "So…Ellen…?" I raised my eyebrow innocently.

He stopped and glanced up at me, shrugging, "What?"

I laughed quietly, "Dude, you have a girlfriend?" I laughed harder after I voiced my question, the question that had made him visibly pale.

He stalked towards me, grinning, "Umm…no. She's like forty-three!" He enthused and I laughed harder, "She's a good contact."

I wiped my eyes letting him wrap me in a hug; I shoved my head into his chest breathing in the comfort, "How are you?"

He shrugged understanding my muffled question, "Doing much better after your lame joking."

I pulled my head away from its comfortable spot, insulted. Did he just say I was lame? "Excuse me, Sir but I'll had you know—"

He shook and it took me a moment to realize he was quietly laughing to himself, "You're so easy to wind-up."

And I punched him in the shoulder.

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I woke up with a start, forgetting for a brief second that Dean was asleep beside me and I quieted my shuddering breath. Waking in the grips of a nightmare was a curse and salvation but waking up to find your brother still gone hurt. Maybe he didn't love me enough to stay…right? Maybe it was the reason that Dad had left too, just like my Mom. I suddenly was abashed by grief, realizing my Mother never loved me. She didn't die heroically like Sam and Dean's mom; she died by her own will, her own hand. And she didn't once think about me.

"Tell me what you're thinking." Dean expressed.

I hadn't meant to wake him, I hadn't meant for him to catch me in the shaming act of sobbing but when I felt his hand rub my back soothingly, I knew he hadn't minded. "I just…" I cleared my throat and tried again, "I was just thinking…maybe Sam doesn't love me Dean. Maybe Dad never loved me, my Mom never loved me." I quietly confessed.

I felt the bed move and he was suddenly beside me, pulling me around to face him, "Look at me Bella."

I shook my head, not wanting to see the condemnation I thought would be lurking in his eyes, "No."

"Look. At me." He quietly ordered and despite my inhibition, I found myself glancing up at him and I died.

There were no inklings of any condemning thoughts, of any anger or blame. Only love and…understanding. I shook my head, not understanding or maybe not wanting to read into what I thought I saw. I never knew anymore.

He cupped my head between his two hands, making sure I couldn't look away; so I couldn't deny the truths any longer. "He loves you, Mirabella. Dad loved you and I'm very sure you're mom loved you too." Dean wiped away my tears with his thumbs and smiled tenderly at me.

I shook my head; stubbornness ran deep in me, "If they loved me, why did they leave?" I asked brokenly.

He shook his head, "I know it might seem that way, but they do. They left because of their own makings, Bells. Not because of you. I remember after you left, Dad had went to the store and got them to reprint a whole bunch of photos of you. He hid them everywhere; in the car, in his wallet, on the wall. I was really starting to get sick of your face." He joked.

I smiled up at him, reaching up to grab one of his wrists, "But why?"

He sighed, pulling away from me only to wrap me in his arms once again, "Sam…has things to figure out. And in his own stupid Sammy way, he pushes people away. Dad was the same way, Bells."

I nodded, letting my head rest on his shoulder, "Why do you think my Mom killed herself?"

I felt Dean tense and I knew maybe he still wasn't comfortable about broaching the whole 'mother' subject. "Bells, I was too young to remember what Dad said about her." I sighed, "Hey, look at me." He cupped my face staring intently down at me, "She phoned and we came to get you before she...she had to love you that much right?"

I thought about it, ignoring the doubt and uncertainty. All I knew was that Dean loved me and he would never leave me. That much I was certain of and for now, I was dang happy about that. "Yeah, I guess so."

I didn't know what we would do tomorrow and quite frankly, I just wanted to get through tonight. I knew Dean and I would be fine, it would hurt but it was the truth. Deep down, I never wanted to go on without one of my brothers, I never knew that I could go on with one of them missing. But the truth? The stark brutal truth was that I could go on and I could very well survive by my own just fine.


	14. Hunted II

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**W**__hat lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Hunted Part II**

I stood outside our motel room, staring unblinkingly at my surroundings. I tried my hand at being strong, I tried my hand at acting normal but it was getting stale, fast. Dean had really been there for me, he made sure I was eating, sleeping; doing things I normally took for granted. I just never knew how hard it would be to function constantly worrying about someone whom was too selfish to bother letting others' know he was okay.

I had Dean and I just had to keep reminding myself that it was enough. He was all right and I was alive, things were looking up…right? We spent the last day and a half in the dingy motel room and my cabin fever; my claustrophobia was in high gear.

The motel room door swung open but I didn't bother glancing behind me, "Get your coat, Bells. You're going to catch a cold."

I shrugged, "I'll be in soon."

"No, we're leaving. I already got all of our things packed." Dean informed me.

And this time, I whipped around searching his face for something that could ease me, "Did you find him? You know where he is? Is he okay? Who told you?"

He shook his head, reaching behind him to pass me my coat. I shrugged it on and waited, "Yes, we found him. He went to Ellen for information and she phoned me after—"

I held up a hand feeling turmoil of anger and betrayal seep into my bones, "Wait…he's fine?"

Dean nodded coming towards me cupping my shoulders, "Yes."

"And he didn't phone?" I shouted.

Dean enveloped me in his arms, "Don't do this, Bells. We'll find him and then I can kick his ass for you. Just…don't tear yourself up over this, okay?"

He waited until I finally nodded my agreement before leaving me to stand there, gaping with what he just told me. I barely paid heed to him packing up our things in the Impala; we finally found Sam. There had better be a dang good reason as to why he left us hanging in the wind.

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We barely spoke throughout the entire drive; I mean, how could we when we'd see with our own eyes what Sam was up to. And when Dean pulled into a random motel parking lot, my breath caught in my throat. If he were doing what I think he was doing, I'd be more than a little peeved. I'd be livid, irate, cross, outraged…a whole bunch of angry adjectives.

"Dean…?" I asked uncertainly. Did I really want to ask if Sam was bonking someone on the side that we weren't supposed to know about?

"I don't know." He replied just as confused.

He slowed to a stop and we both sat there staring up from across the desolate parking lot into the large window of a certain motel room. We saw Sam hunched over a table talking and for a brief hopeful second, I thought maybe, just maybe he was talking to himself.

But when a woman came into view, I knew he was going to be in trouble. And I knew by the day's end, that we'd have more than a few terse words exchanged. Way more than words. "Way to go Sammy." I heard Dean comment beside me and I shot him a withering look.

He shrugged, "Well…at least he's not dead."

I frowned harder, "Well…that makes it so much better! I mean, if he was dead; then it'd make sense that he didn't phone us." I snapped and felt a tidal wave of guilt. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not…mad at you."

Dean reached over grabbing my hand, "I know…son of a bitch is that Gordon?"

I glanced over at him and his furrowed brows, "Whose Gordon?" I asked following Dean's gaze out the window to the roof adjacent of the motel room. I saw a man with a large gun kneeling down and I gasped. "Dean!"

"Stay here, all right? Stay." He ordered. I watched him run across the parking lot and I tried obeying. I really did. But I mean, what else could I do? Let my brother fight off some intense looking guy with a huge riffle while Sam hung out with a girl? I'm sorry but just because Sam deserted us did not mean that I would desert Dean.

Sneaking out of the Impala was easy, running across the sun laden parking lot wasn't difficult but quietly stalking up the noisy metal staircase where Dean ascended? It was stealthy. I heard a tussle above me and I poked my head above the cement footing to see what was going on. I watched the man knock my brother out with the butt of his riffle and I withdrew my gun, "Put the gun down!" I shouted to the man.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded not wavering an inch from pointing the rifle at me.

We stood at a standstill but I refused to budge, "Same thing I'd like to know."

He smirked despite the situation, "Hmm, are you with him?" He asked motioning with his head to Dean's fallen form.

It took me a minute to fully understand what he was asking me, "No, I'm his sister, moron."

I saw interest gleam in his dark eyes and tried not to swallow, "I didn't know the Winchesters' had a sister…"

I shrugged, realizing I might have said too much. Was it safe to say I wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto? "So, you going to lower your gun?"

He waited a few seconds longer, studying me and I had to fight every instinctual need not to bolt like a young colt. I had to help Dean. "Sure."

I watched him through weary eyes as he took a step back, lowering his rifle. If I would have known who Gordon was, I would have never accepted that, I would have never given whatever trust I solely had left and I sure as heck would have shot him down faster than I could breathe. No, if I knew I would have never ran over to Dean's form, giving him a good angle to take me down.

Instead of trusting my instincts, I ran my empty hand over his crumpled form, checking for wounds. I felt relief rush through me when I realized he had only been knocked out. However that relief was short-lived when I felt a sudden, burningly intense pain race through my head and darkness assailed me.

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I groaned, feeling tiny pulses of painful electricity throb throughout my skull. It had been a long time since I was last knocked out and I was glad to say, I hadn't missed a thing. I tried grabbing my head, wanting to find the offending bump when I felt a tug on my wrist. My eyes flashed open and I gazed down through blurry eyes at the rope tethering my wrists down to a chair. Son of a bitch, what was going on?

"So…you're awake."

I groaned again, hearing the rumbling of the stranger's voice burning its way into my ears. I glanced up and bit back a string of curses. "Gordon…right?"

He leaned back against a table and smirked down at me, "I knew you wouldn't forget me."

I frowned ignoring his innuendo and glanced around; trying to find more clues as to where the heck I was. Debris littered the entire room and I suddenly realized I was in an abandoned warehouse of some sorts, tied to a chair with a psycho looking dude staring at me. Yup, sure as heck ain't Kansas.

"How could I? When I'm tied down!" I snapped trying desperately to wiggle out of the tight-knotted ropes. It only spiked more anxiety when I felt more ropes bit into both of my ankles. This guy was serious, if nothing else.

He frowned, picking up something to tinker with it, "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't raise your voice. It's not ladylike."

I glared. It was so much easier glaring with the pounding head and rising nerves; "I would _appreciate_ it if you would untie me!" I yelled again. And realized, this kind of man doesn't like to be yelled at.

He dropped what he had been playing with to walk towards me menacingly. He grabbed my shoulder, letting his fingers bite into my flesh; but I refused to cry out, no matter how hard he was squeezing. "You need to learn some manners."

"You need to tell me what the heck is going on." I bit out quietly. No matter what, I knew I shouldn't push my luck. I never pushed my Dad and I sure as heck would try not to push this man. _Try_ being subjective.

I watched him pick up my cell phone, his gun and a paper. I wasn't sure what was going on and I was starting to really get annoyed. I was going to get answers, even if it cost me my tongue. "You're going to read what it says on this paper to your brothers and you're not going to say anything else. Do you understand me?"

I shook my head, "Is this a ransom or something?"

He shrugged, "I only wanted Sam. But Dean was in the way and then you came along."

"What did you do to Dean?" I demanded.

He glanced down at me, "Nothing, just a few cuts and bruises. I liked him but it's best if they both go together, Dean can be a big pain in the ass."

I reared back and spat on him, I wasn't as good as Dean but I was a Winchester and that was all that mattered. "You son of a—"

His face shuttered blank and he backhanded me, hard. I saw stars for a minute or two and tasted the flood of iron blanketing my mouth. "I told you to be polite."

"And I want damn answers but I have a feeling we're not going to get either of them." I bit out, making sure to spit some more blood his way. I was nothing if not determined. He backhanded me and I blacked out.

I awoke to a wash of more pain, being backhanded twice with the pain of a concussion? It was probably not my favourite thing in the world and if I ever got out of this situation, I was going to really enjoy hunting Gordon down.

"Finally!" I heard the damned voice mutter above me.

I gagged swallowing the blood that had pooled in my mouth when I had been under, "If you'd stop hitting me!"

I glanced up at him and watched him dial a number. I would not give in, no matter what. I was not some pawn to his sick game, especially when I had no idea what his game was. Gordon held the phone out to me and I closed my eyes against the sudden burn of emotions at hearing Dean's frantic voice over the phone. I couldn't make out what he was saying nor could I make out what Sam was yelling over Dean's stricken voice.

I glanced up and Gordon's face and noticed his eye was twitching. Hmm, Dean did the same thing when he was angry. I was in shock and I was becoming hysterical, fast. I shook my head at him and glared when he raised his gun to my head and cocked it. It was petty and dirty and we both knew he wouldn't pull the trigger. Not yet anyway.

I heard Dean and Sam's voice raise a few octaves and knew that they had heard the gun too. "Asshole." I bit out to Gordon and he backhanded me again, though this time he wasn't as forceful. I guess he was tired of me blacking out. What a jerk.

"Say it." He demanded quietly, too quietly for them to hear over the phone and I shook my head again.

"Eat shit and die, Gordon." I knew the moment I shouted that, I was in deep trouble. But I had gotten my point across. Now both brothers knew who had kidnapped me and now they knew I was in trouble. It was my secret code with them and they both hated it. They had said it was vastly inappropriate but I disagreed. It worked wonders.

I saw the butt of his gun sail towards me and I slammed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the pain. I tried holding on to reality; I was tired of blacking out. I held onto the greasy waves of pain wash over me but it was useless. I gave up fighting to the sounds of Gordon's mocking voice on the phone.

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"Gordon? You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted over the phone. He shoved his foot harder down on the gas pedal, hands shaking in rage and worry.

"Now, now, Dean. I used to like you—" Gordon's voice wavered over the line.

"I'm going to rip you apart you son of a bitch, piece by piece for touching her." Dean threatened. He had heard Gordon hitting her and he had heard, despite his pounding heart, Gordon cocking his gun. It had taken all of his will not to scream and shout for Bella, his legs were feeling rubbery but he'd be damned if he'd fail her.

"Be here or be square." Gordon mocked leaving Dean to curse at the dial tone.

"Hurry Dean." Sam worriedly told Dean.

"Shut up. Just…stop, okay Sammy." Dean glared harder at the street ahead of them. His head was pounding and his fist ached from punching Sam but nothing, _nothing_ compared to the pain his heart was in.

The last thing he remembered was being knocked out by the damning Gordon and woke up to feel Sam shaking him awake, wondering where Mirabella had went to. He had told her…no, ordered her to stay in the car; it was for her own safety but he knew, just _knew_ that she hadn't listened. Her gun had been laying there, a desolate reminder that she was missing and even now it was in Dean's lap. He couldn't put it away, it was all he had left of her for now and damned if it didn't give him a shred of hope.

"It's a trap." Sam commented.

Dean punched the steering wheel, "Of course it's a trap, Sam! She gave us her stupid code for it but what would you like me to do? Huh? Leave her there to be slaughtered by Gordon?" Dean demanded.

Sam swallowed hearing Dean's voice break and waver with pent up emotion, "I'm sorry—"

"Look, you know what? Who cares? I decked you, I'm fine; but you apologize to Mirabella. You tell her that you couldn't be there for her—I can't lose her, Sammy." Dean blinked back tears. He would rather die than lose her.

"I should have—"

Dean cleared his throat, "You know what? That's what family is for, Sam. To be there for each other, help each other out. I know that, Bella knows that, just where the hell were you?"

Sam opened his mouth to defend his actions but realized Dean wasn't paying him any heed. Dean had been right; Sam shouldn't have taken off like that. But he had to figure out what his dreams meant, he had to find others like him. He hadn't meant for Bella to be kidnapped by Gordon though.

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"Rise and shine valentine." Gordon mocked.

"I'm really starting to hate your voice." I mumbled. "And your face." I mocked glaring up at him.

"Well, that's okay, you're brothers' are on the way and we can finally get this finished. I'm not too happy with you." He growled.

I frowned, "Yeah, well join the club. What do you want anyway?"

He sat down in a nearby chair, "I want Sam."

I snorted, "You're gay? No shit!" It was low, it was petty; it was immature. But when tied to a chair, bleeding profusely from a whole bunch of facial lacerations, it was all right. And I wasn't surprised when I earned a swift, hard slap to the face.

"I swear you have more filth in that mouth that your brother, Dean." He bit out glaring down at me.

I shrugged lightly, what could I say? We're Winchesters. "What do you want with Sam? And why Dean?"

Gordon shrugged, sitting on the edge of a nearby table, "I can't get to Sam without removing Dean."

I bit back a curse; he sounded so nonchalant about killing. What a freak! "Why Sam?"

"Let me break it down for you." He mocked, settling in for a long story; just my luck. A narcissistic, psychotic freak that was trying to kill us all. Great. "I was doing a routine exorcism in Louisiana and between all the head spinning and jabbering, it mutters something about a coming war. And I don't think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out, but it was too late. I'm a curious creature." He shrugged to himself.

"You a demented creature." I threw back at him.

He came at me quickly, not bothering to frighten me with menace; his backhand was enough. Each time he hit me, I clenched my teeth, it was something I learned from my Dad and damned if I would let Gordy here loosen a few of my teeth. Nuh-uh.

"As I was saying," Gordon threw me a pointed look before continuing, "Anyway, this demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this coming war. Humans, fighting on hell's side…you believe that? They're psychics' so they're not _exactly_ human, but still. What kind of worthless piece of trash lowlife have you got to be to turn against your own race?"

"You ever look in the mirror?" I asked nonchalantly and once again earned a swift knock for that one. Honestly, I was loosing blood fast, I could feel it drip down my face and each time Gordon came at me, he had to wipe his knuckles on his shirt, ridding away my blood. Damn it.

"But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester." Gordon chuckled to himself, seemingly amused with the situation.

Well, I wasn't. I was getting angry, blinking back stars and gagging every so often, on the bad chance of swallowing blood. Vampire, I could never be one. "Don't you call him that, you son of a bitch."

He came towards me and this time landed a punch, "That's my momma you're talking about!" He snapped. Note to self; do _not_ comment on his mom. Sure way to peeve him off, I'll say.

I waited for the pain to fade in the foreground, "That's moronic, even for you."

"Come on, Sis. I know about his visions, I know _everything." _

I tried not to panic and show my shock; considering the state my face was in? It wasn't hard. "Even I know demons lie."

"Hey, look. I'm not some reckless yahoo, okay?" I snorted and he shot me a quelling look, "Careful. Your brothers' had their Roadhouse connections and I've got mine. It's how I found Sammy in the first place."

I snorted, wondering if the Roadhouse was the same as the one I heard Dean talk about with Sam. If it was, I was going to get Rambo on all of their Asses. "And you think they're dumb enough to walk through the front door?"

He shook his head, fanatically smiling down at me, "Nope. That's why I have all the entrances trip-wired off with grenades."

"They're not going to fall for some stupid trip-wire." I shouted, ignoring the ocean of emotion rip into me. Of all the stupid things, I just hoped they didn't come and save me. I would rather die than have them sacrifice themselves for me.

"Maybe you're right. That's why I'll have a second one." He laughed and slapped his knee in amusement. He was so unhinged; he made Jason and Freddy look cuddly.

"Come on, I know Sam. He's my _brother. _How can a guy like that become a monster?" I asked shoving against the ropes binding my wrists down. When I felt the bite of them, stinging away my flesh and when they became sticky with blood; I shoved harder against the binds.

"Beats me, but he will." He replied ignoring my plight.

"Then why are you going to kill Dean too?" Pain was a compromise and blood? I had enough anyway.

"Because he'll try to kill me first. It's simple semantics, I don't know why you're getting so emotional." He condemned.

"You stupid son of a whore! When I get out of this, I'll show you just how _emotional_ I can be." I threateningly shouted at him. He came at me with the butt of his gun and I was glad to go under but the panic? The worry? It was stifling and not even succumbing to darkness could quell its biting edge.

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I gagged and blinked away the tears invoked by the reflex. Waking up gagging was probably not going to be on my bucket list that's for sure. I tried shouting and realized Gordy had gagged me. He was smiling anxiously down at me and I started to struggle again, gasping when I felt the chafing begin again around my sore and bloody wrists.

"Wait…I think they're here." He whispered leaning closer to me.

I glared up at him, if only looks could kill; he'd be writhing around on the floor in pain. Before I could contemplate anymore bodily harm, the entire room shook from a sudden explosion. I fought harder against the binds but he stilled me with a threatening look, "Wait…just wait for it."

I didn't want to, I struggled harder and began making sounds as best as I could in the present circumstances. The room once again ricocheted from the force of the second explosion and a sob caught in my throat. I didn't bother fighting it; I mean…how could I? I just lost the only two reasons why I was still alive. I failed them, I failed, I failed, I failed. The physical pain was secondary to what I was feeling now. Once Gordon untied me, I would take him down and hopefully, he'd take me down with him.


	15. Hunted III

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_**T**__he miserable have no other medicine_

_But only hope. —William Shakespeare _

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Hunted Part III**

I didn't know the moment I became conscious; it was something so tangible yet misleading to me. I remembered feeling the explosion knock its way into my bones, I remembered screaming and struggling to free my encumbered limbs; but to no avail. I could barely open my right eye and I knew the moment I forcefully pried my left one open, it would sting and tear from the abuse and dry blood.

But I had to see. I had to see where they were, even if it broke me, if their fallen images took my soul; then so be it. But I had to know. It was the only reason I hadn't wanted to die. At least not yet anyway.

I felt my chair quiver and I bit back another sob; it was hard. I would have to be stronger than I've ever been but I could do it. I was a Winchester, I was the only one left. I carefully studiously pried my unabated eye open and this time, I didn't fight the tears. Dean had once told me, after being punched in the eye by a possessed girl, that the tears would wash away the impurities, it would cleanse my eye from the blood. Even thinking about him made me hurt. All this pain I was feeling was nothing, _nothing _compared to the way my heart ached.

I tried making out the bokeh images that were filtering through my tear-hazed eye and this time, I openly cried. I saw abstract shapes, rugged edges and dust filled the air; and then I knew. The shapes and edges were the debris from the explosion; and the saving grace was that I couldn't make out the fallen broken shapes of my brothers.

"Gordon! You son of a bitch. Untie me so I can rip your head off!" I screamed; though screaming was a subjective term for my bellow. After being repeatedly punched and manhandled, the face swells and speaking coherently? Not really a priority.

I felt my chair shake once again and this time it was followed by some curses, I was in pain, confused, bloodied and in shock; I probably resembled a shredded piece of meat. I couldn't understand the scuffle I heard going on before me and I could barely understand the cursing and gentle hands I felt touch me, trembling in their need for reassurance.

"I'm sorry." I sobbed picturing Dean and Sam's face in my head. It was so vibrant, so real and for a second, I wanted to have hope and believe that they were alive. But I had nothing left and surely hope wouldn't grace me this time with its mocking smile. I let the darkness once again flutter its gloriously numbing veil around me and lull me to a state where I could dream that this all was a farce.

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Dean barely managed to suppress a quivering groan from erupting from his tightening throat. He ignored Sam beating Gordon in the background and tried focusing on untying his Bella.

He knew it was a trap but that hadn't stopped him from coming to her aide and he knew on the first impressionable sight, that he had failed her. She was soaked in blood; her face was marred in cuts, scrapes and bruises. But her wrists and ankles? She had fought so ferociously that the ropes were embedded deeply into her skin, almost becoming unison in her attempts.

He thought on first glance of her that Gordon would be dead. His hands still shook from the suppressed rage he was holding back in account of Mirabella, but he didn't want to leave her alone. He couldn't bring himself to help Sam and tear himself away from her. Not in the state she was in; not ever. When she had shook awake; he had tried hushing and whispering a few lullabies to calm her but they had only proved to disorientate her more. So he had tried breaking the chair instead of peeling away the sticky ropes, but that had only exacerbated her crying.

He heard a heavy thump and Sam cursing what was probably Gordon's fallen form. They were all safe now, something he relished. He would _love_ to kill Gordon but deep down, he didn't want to be the monster Gordon was. It was a good decision to let Sammy take care of everything as he finally, gently enveloped her into his arms.

"How is she doing?" Sam asked kneeling down beside the two. He took in her bloody form and felt the biting edge of rage resurface.

"She's fine. She'll be better once we take her to the hospital." Dean replied gently wiping a few stray hairs from her blood-streaked face.

"Dean…there's so much blood." Sam whispered wanting frantically to bury his face into her hair and cry from the guilt.

Dean cleared his throat, "Everything taken care of?"

Sam nodded, kicking any rocks out of his path; in any cases of Dean tripping and falling were rare and far between but he had to keep busy. "Yes, the police are on the way. I didn't beat Gordon up too badly."

"Sadly." Dean muttered not breaking his attention away from his Bella in his arms.

"And there's enough arsenal in his car to lock him away for a _long_ time." Sam commented, at least pleased with one aspect in all of this mess.

"Good, then let's get out of here."

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Throughout my dark slumber, I felt someone poking and prodding me with something cold. Then they had the audacity to yell in my ear and ask me if I knew who I was. In my defense, I couldn't be blamed for telling them off the few times they were insolent enough to bother me. I just wanted to sleep and not remember. But it was hard, even in my sleep I swear I could hear my two brothers. But I didn't want to hope; I knew how devastatingly disappointing hope could be.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I heard someone demand noticing my thoughtful movements, probably the Nurse Nazi; she was unrelenting in her constant nagging. And so the blitz would begin again.

I struggled with my movements, relearning the things I took for granted; who knew my own arm was that heavy? I lifted my arm and curled all of my fingers down, save for one; the most important one. Let them see how many I was holding up now. I heard quiet laughter around me and I frowned, realizing my eyes were still shut. Whomever they were needed to leave me alone! Why couldn't they just let me?

"She gets that from you." I heard a voice comment and I felt the swift dash of hope elicit its way into my blood stream.

I bent forward, struggling the entire time to sit up and gasped when I felt warm hands grasp my bare arms and back to help me in my endeavour. "Sam?" I croaked not realizing how parched I really was, or how horrifyingly harsh I sounded to my own ears. The truth was brutal, if nothing else. But if my brothers were really here; wherever here was, then I'd be happy to accept the truth. More than happy.

"Give her water Dean." I heard and tried to quell my voraciously beating heart.

I felt the cool waxy rim of a disposable cup and allowed myself to swallow. It was glorious! I didn't even mind that the water was mere lukewarm for it tasted better than anything to me. It was like liquid gold. I drank fast and furiously, not wanting to part from my love when the cup left my lips.

"Whoa now, you're going to get sick if you go on like that." I heard a rough voice comment and this time, I had to see. I lifted my hands to my eyes and touched the swollen flesh. But I was thankful that at least my left was in a better shape. I forced it open, wincing when I felt a few cuts around my lids open along with my eye.

"Stop that, Bella! You're hurting yourself." A voice admonished but I didn't care. I had to see them. Was this cruel fate mocking me? Playing a joke on me, or was this reality?

"Stop Sam, she's just wants to see us." I heard another voice comment quietly. "Get the salve for her open cuts."

When glaring white blinded me, I winced and blinked back the stars. I was determined, if nothing else. "Sam? Dean?" I croaked seeing two faces I thought I'd never see again stare back at me.

Dean smiled sadly, "Hi Bella."

"Hi Bella?" I demand too happy to cry and yet, through all the hell I went through to see them again, I was so elated; I couldn't help but want to high five someone. But I was my Father's daughter and I knew he was more bark than bite and whenever he was happy with something; he frowned. "You almost died and that's all that I get?"

I barely paid heed to the fact that we were in a hospital; I could berate them later for bringing me here. More importantly, why was I only wearing a hospital gown, where were my underwear and the most important; who the heck had undressed me?

Ignoring the fact that I sounded like a toad, I ignored the fact that my other eye was swollen shut and I'm danged glad I didn't get to see the swollen barbarity of my face. Yes, there was a reason there were no mirrors in my room.

"What do you want us to say?" Dean asked looking more like himself with his dangerously charming smirk.

I studied them both, noticing the weary worry etched along their faces. The fact that they both looked ten years older and the way they kept staring at me intensely. Was I that incorrigible to look at?

"What…is something on my face?" I asked innocently loving the way Sam's laugh wrapped itself around me, cocooning me in its safety. I was glad he was back but I was gladder that they were both back.

"Ah, I see she's awake." A voice drawled from the doorway and I tried not to tense like both of my brothers did.

"Yes, she is." I answered smartly at the doctor.

He smiled at me and moved into the room, flicking through my chart, which always made me want to grab it from them and see what they wrote about me. It was petty but things like that got my mind off the fact that I hated hospitals. I hated hospitals more than split pea vomiting possessed girls or perverted clowns with sharp teeth. Though I probably should lay off watching horror movies.

"And how are you feeling Miss…" He glanced back down at the charts and I waited to see what identity I was under before I stuck my foot in my mouth. "Emery? You gave us all quite a scare."

I glanced at Dean and Sam trying not to lower my gaze to get away from their intense stares; instead I glanced back up at the doctor and met his almost kind eyes. Almost because quite frankly, if he had been the one poking and prodding? He was far from it, which was for sure. "I'm much better. Sore though."

He nodded, motioning to my bandaged wrists, ankles and face; "Thankfully your brothers' brought you here in time. And thank god the police arrested those punks."

I glanced questioningly at Dean before turning back to the doctor. It was best if I didn't act like I knew nothing of what he was talking about. It was probably the cover story my brothers told and though a lie; it was so much better than the actual truth.

The doctor asked me a few more questions and promised me some 'happy serum' if the pain got too unbearable. But if I needed anything to make me happy, all I needed was to look at Dean and Sam and feel the giddy rush that we made it. That or the face Dean pulled upon hearing the comment from the doctor.

We watched the doctor leave and I immediately settled myself back into the comforts of their presences. We stayed that way for a few hours, each of them grasping my hand as I dozed off, content as long as I held each of them.

"I have to go Dean. I have to make sure Ava's okay." I heard Sam say.

I didn't want to let on that I was awake but from the sudden shift closer to me that Dean had made, I knew he knew. I had no idea whom Ava was but if memory served me correctly, she was probably the woman that Sam was with in the motel room. So…he'd be leaving me for her?

I felt the sudden squeeze of petty jealousy and squeezed slightly on Dean's hand; I heard Sam move farther away from me, closer to the door, "Why? You're leaving your sister again? Jesus Sammy…" Dean snapped.

"Dean—"

"Just go, she won't be let out from here for another day or two. I'll stay with her." Dean pointedly said and even from my spot I heard Sam's indecision. He was a loud thinker; just like I was. I heard the rustle of clothing and footsteps and knew the moment he had left but still, I didn't want to open my eye and see the honest comings of reality.

"He's gone now." Dean sandwiched my hands between his two larger ones and began warming them.

"Where'd he go?" I asked not wanting to contemplate the reason for his absence.

"Ava was the woman in the motel room…she has visions just like he does." Dean told me.

I nodded, sure…I could accept that; didn't mean I had to like it but I could accept it. A sudden important thought occurred to me and I bolted upwards, grabbing Dean's hands in mine. "I have to get to the Roadhouse." I didn't know what the Roadhouse was but if it were indeed a haven for converged hunters' then I'd have to get Arnold on all of them. They had risked all of our lives.

Dean sat straighter, "What does the Roadhouse have to do with it? And how do you even know what the Roadhouse is?"

I shrugged, "I don't know but Gordon spoke about it. He told me that's how he found out where Sam had went off to." I could tell Dean struggling with that information and decided to let him have all of it, "He said…he said that he was in the middle of an exorcism and the demon splurged about a coming war. Hell using psychics' for their side."

Dean nodded standing up, "I'll be right back." He quietly said. Whenever Dean ever got that quiet; he was deadly.

I heard a few muffled shouts for a few tense moments before his terse 'good-bye' ended the noise and filtered into my room. I was tired and lonely; I wanted things to go back to the way they were. But all the talk of war and psychics' made me realize that we were going to be facing something; something bigger than any of us.

"Go to sleep Bells, I'm here now." Dean quietly informed me. I scooted closer to the edge leaving room for his form and carefully patted the empty space beside me. He understood what I wanted and gently laid himself down behind me; curling both of us closer together. And for one minute; I felt better. So there'd be a war; we faced battles and tribulations everyday but that's what life was about. Having two brothers was the greatest gift I was given and knowing they would fight just as hard as I did made me realize something; without hope, we had nothing.


	16. Playthings I

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

"_**T**__he silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence."—Sylvia Plath_

_Please enjoy and __**Please Review!**_

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Playthings**

I was healed and ready to kick ass and take names…only I didn't really want to. I mean, sure; hunting with my two favourite brothers; mind you they were my only brothers, was fun and all but I would have loved if I could have snuck away for a while. They would have pitched a fit if I told them my wish so instead of adding more burden to their already heavy shoulders; I went along with them.

Sam and I hadn't conversed as much as we used to; though in part it was mostly my fault but when we were both alone, I felt like there were so many things that needed to be said but no courage to say them with. So instead, I just went along with it. I was starting to think that's all I was really good for…just going along for the ride. But even thinking those thoughts would earn a swift kick to my butt from Dean and frankly? I was kind of tired feeling sorry for myself.

"Whoa, you guys! You're deafening me with all of your loud conversations." Dean joked turning the Impala down another winding strip of desolated road.

I shrugged. Would it be in bad taste if I said I wouldn't contest that statement? "Where are we going again?"

Sam cleared his throat, "A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

Dean glanced in the review mirror and I couldn't help myself; I stuck my tongue out at him. My maturity far weighed out my capacity for anything serious.

"You look like the girl from _The Exorcist _with your face all cut up like that." Dean commented dryly and we shared a laugh…before his jab sunk in…did he just say I was ugly?

"If I could, I'd puke all over this car." I retorted.

Dean slammed on his brakes and sat there for a few moments, in utter tense silence…oops. "Apologize."

"What? Dean—I'm not going to apologize to—" I couldn't believe he was actually doing this! It wasn't the first time and sadly, I knew it wouldn't be the last. What kind of guy stopped the car in the middle of the road so you could apologize to it? It was a_ car_.

"Umm, I'm sorry Darla. I didn't mean it." I deadpanned.

Seemingly okay with my lackluster attempt for reprieve, we once again started moving down the road. "Bella?" Sam broke the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Will you ever forgive me?" He quietly asked.

And I died.

There were so many words, so many things but my mouth was too dry to vocalize any of them. Suddenly I was so parched, so tired from all of this; I only wanted a nap. "When are you going to forgive yourself?"

Or Dad? Or Dean? Or even me, for leaving? But I couldn't say those things. I let the silence say them instead, hanging between us in its mocking lull.

I turned away from his worried face and settled myself back down in the seat; I was tired and though I knew from my wounds that I needed more time to rest, this was all I could need. I curled tighter into myself and grasped my still raw wrist in one hand, the pain almost comforting me. Pain was simply a compromise, I had learned and pain was the one true thing that never left us.

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"I still can't believe you agreed to Ellen that we'd take this hunt." Dean's voice filtered in through my reverie.

I lay there, letting the roar of the Impala instill comfort into me as I eavesdropped. The way I saw it; it wasn't my fault listening in to their conversation. They'd have done the same thing. Only not as inconspicuously.

"It's a job," I heard Sam shrug, "A lady drowned in the bathtub then a few days ago, a man fell down the stairs and his head did a complete one-eighty. Which isn't normal, you know? It could be nothing at all but…we need this."

I heard the steel in Sam's voice and my insides tightened; did we really have to jump headfirst back into hunting? I would have loved to take a few days off and I knew Dean had also been looking forward to it too.

"I'm surprised, is all." Dean quietly commented.

Weren't we all? I knew Sam was my brother and even though he had a tendency to throw dirt upon me, I knew we loved each other. But he _did_ have a propensity for angst. "Why?" Sam asked curiously.

I itched to answer but I didn't want to give away the fact that I was eavesdropping; I could always tease Sam later. After we were all right again. "It's just not the patented Sam Winchester way."

I stifled a laugh but thankfully Sam took offence to that and made a sound, which covered the slight noise I had made, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well you know, after Ava's disappearance and you looking everywhere for her…I'd have expected more angst, droopy music, staring out of the window—never mind."

"Look, I'm the one that told her to go back home and now her fiancée is dead and she's missing. I've tried looking for her and I'll keep trying but for now we've got to save as many people as we can." Sam explained.

"That…that attitude is way too healthy for me and now I'm officially uncomfortable. Thank you." Dean commented and I couldn't wholly agree more. I mean, sure it's what we do but really? Would it be petty and small of me to feel jealous that he seemingly cared more for others than he did for his own sister? Maybe I was too close to the situation to see other differential ways but maybe not. I just didn't know anymore. And for a while, I never doubted it. But what changed? Maybe too many things had changed us.

I heard Sam softly chuckle and I didn't realize up until that moment that I missed him laughing with me, instead it seemed; only Dean ever made him laugh now. "About Bella?" Sam began and my heart stopped.

Dean sighed, "Look, I hate to say this man, but it was your decision to leave and it was your decision to leave again when she was in the hospital. It's up to you to make it up to her."

I heard a frustrated sound emanating from Sam, "Well what does she want anyway?"

Dean laughed, "Wow, that's rich. I always knew you had difficulties with women Sammy, but really? Your own sister?"

"Shut up jerk, help me out here."

"Well, what do you think she wants?"

Sam made yet another frustrated sound, "I don't know! That's why I'm asking you!" I waited with abated breath, "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"Nope."

I smirked despite the conversation. I wasn't depressed, yet I was mopping. I really had no circumstantial reason to be filled with angst or be uninterested. I just…was. It was understandable to be down and out of it in the hospital but I wasn't anymore and there wasn't a good enough reason for me not to kick my own butt back into gear. Things were always going to be this way; Sam would leave, Dean wouldn't and I would be stuck in the middle. Why did I decide now to mope?

Just because I tended to doubt my self-worth or because I doubted if Sam loved me? I knew he loved me and he knew I loved him but our relationship was a study of strong-will and guile. We had been so close growing up and yet, towards the end of my stay with them and Sam's readiness to go to college; I think we had started to fray at the seams. Maybe this was how our relationship really was and the entire time that we were 'okay' we were just pretending?

I knew without doubt that I wouldn't say a word of this to either of them, it was my own silence that I wanted to hold. Why did I feel like every other time something was wrong, I went to them to fix it for me? I hadn't done that when I was on my own but why in heck did I start now? Things were going to change. Just because Gordon had beaten me bloody did not mean that I would let myself be subjugated by his memory. He might have broken me in some ways but I would be danged if I let myself be victimized again.

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I would be lying if I said I had been dreaming about ponies and lollipops; rather I had been dreaming about Gordon. Dean had done his best to explain Gordon's sudden, abruptly painful entrance into my life and I had accepted it. They were my brothers' and their problems were mine; but _mine were my own_. It was a double standard but it was _my _double standard.

I was tired of not dealing with mine and though it seemed subsequent to say that theirs' were more important; they weren't; I just wanted to handle mine by myself and prove that I hadn't regressed to some prepubescent petulant child. And suddenly, all of my needs to be self-reliant and kicking my own butt into gear disappeared. It was amazingly humble to realize that one nightmare could do something like that. That after everything that I've hunted; I could be so easily haunted by my own mind.

I felt something once again shake me and the maniacal face of Gordon blinding me blurred into Sam's worried gaze, "Bella, wake up!" He tried once again to forcefully rouse me.

"Stop, I'm up, I'm up." I grumbled glancing around, "Where are we?"

"At the hotel in Cornwall. You slept the entire drive over here." Sam explained extending his hand towards me.

I swallowed, "I slept the entire drive?"

I slid my hand into his and felt his warmth comfort my chilly bones, "You were having a nightmare."

I stared guiltily at my feet, I hadn't wanted anyone to find out that Gordon still touched me when I slept and that I was still suffering. I was a Winchester; dang it! I was my Brothers' sister, either I was maudlin or I pretended nothing happened. It was my way and realizing that they had seen past my farce made the guilt crushing. They still blamed themselves and I desperately didn't want them to see me in any state but 'okay'.

Sam lifted my chin with his gentle fingers, "You shouldn't feel bad about anything Bella; it wasn't your fault. It was mine, maybe if I hadn't left…maybe if I could have been there sooner."

I grabbed his wrist, "It wasn't your fault. It was none of our faults. The only faulty one was Gordon." I smiled up at him, so we had our differences…we were blood and we were Winchesters.

"I'm sorry Bella."

I threw myself into his arms and wiggled my way closer into his tight embrace, "You thought it was right and I was just being…petty."

He pulled away, "You weren't petty. You have every right to hate me and push me away—" Stern Sam was funnier than Angst Sam…though I did prefer Angst Sam; with his hair over the eyes and staring out the rainy window.

I smiled widely, "I don't. I just miss you."

"Okay, not that I'm ever one to break up family bonding…but could we not have a '_moment_' in front of the place where we're going to hunt?" Dean called over.

I pulled my head away from Sam's shoulder and made a very mature face at him, "I'm just saying! I doubt Casper is waiting for us." He contended.

"Hey! I liked Casper!" I retorted.

Sam laughed tugging me along to Dean, "Sorry."

"No you're not." Dean threw back at Sam before smiling at me. Maybe things were looking up.

I went to him and landed a punch on his arm, "You know, if you're nicer, I'd give you a hug."

Dean pretended to think about it and instead shoved my duffel and Sam's to Sam, "Here Angst Boy."

Sam scoffed, "Thanks."

I finally looked up and caught a glance at my surroundings; I was nothing if not observant. It was a perfect day for ghost hunting, if I ever saw one. It was humid, foggy and the hotel stood alone; standing out amongst the heavy scenery…if you could call depressed isolation scenery.

"Whoa, this is sweet!" I exclaimed before I could help myself.

Both of my brothers slowly turned their attention to me but only Sam was gutsy enough to raise a mocking eyebrow, "Really?"

I shrugged, "What? When was the last time any of us got to play around in an old school haunted house? Fog…secret passageways, sissy British people. Might even run into Scooby!" It was sad; I wasn't even going to lie. But this was my life and I might as well get as much enjoyment from things as I could.

Dean raised a hand waiting until I gave him a high-five, "I'm so proud to call you my sister right now."

"Ugh." Sam commented beside me.

"Hey, maybe Daphne will be there too." Dean smiled dreamily, "I love Daphne."

"Ew, gross." I slapped his arm and tried not to notice all of the creepy cobwebs around this place. Ghosts, vampires, demons; I was cool with all of those things but cobwebs? Not even if hell froze over.

"I'm not so sure haunted is the problem." Sam commented dropping my duffle along his to inspect a small vase like thing off to the side, just resting beside the porch stairs. Which made me question something—why in heck would I stay at a hotel that kept an urn on the porch stairs when that would be the first thing guests would see when ascending the stairs? Maybe I wasn't the only crazy one.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked looking over my shoulder.

"You see this pattern here?" Sam asked both of us, pointing to a symbol engraved on the urn, "That's a quincunx, a five-spot."

"A five-spot." Dean repeated.

"Yeah." Sam stood slowly.

I shook my head; okay, make that cobwebs _and_ hoodoo. "That's some heavy hoodoo spell work, isn't it?" Please say no, please say no.

"Yes." Sam smiled proudly at me. "You fill this thing with blood weed and it's powerful enough to ward off enemies."

I squinted up at him, "Blood weed?"

"I forgot; you failed that course." He mocked.

"I had a bad teacher." I retorted which in hindsight, not the best thing to do when your teacher is standing right behind you.

"Hey, excuse me! I was a damn awesome teacher!" Dean snapped.

I laughed, "Okay, okay—" I raised my hands peacefully, "I'm sorry."

"Now enough chitchat ladies, let's get to work." Dean ordered taking lead up the creepy stairs to the creepy door. Now all we needed was a creepy butler, stairs that creaked and we were all set.

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Dean held the door for me and I nodded my thanks. The interior of the place wasn't _that_ bad but it sure as heck wasn't good either. And if I weren't here hunting, I'd never stay here in a million years. This place didn't have so much as charm as just…eerie vibes.

"May I help you?" A woman asked walking in from the other room.

Dean nodded, moving closer to her and I was fine standing back and taking all of the duffels from Sam. So I was a little…spooked from this place. "Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights."

Just as I was about to step closer into the foyer, a small girl; no older than ten darted past me into an adjoining room and I had to bite back every instinctual urge to whip out my gun…or trip her with my foot.

"Hey!" The woman called to the young girl, "I'm sorry." She amended to me.

"Uh, yeah no problem." I tried smiling but instead, I moved closer to Sam.

"Well congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." She smiled bitterly at the three of us and I tried not to swallow nervously. What kind of thing was that to say to a guest? Especially when this place looked creepier than the house in _Rocky Horror Picture Show_!

"Well…that sounds vaguely ominous." Dean commented and I knew, though his back was turned to me that his eyebrow was raised.

The woman scoffed at herself, "I'm sorry. What I meant to say was that we're closing at the end of the month." She shrugged, glancing at all three of us. I hated being appraised and I bet a lot of people out there did too. I mean, did anyone like being confined and defined by someone else's idea? Didn't think so. "Let me guess…you're all here for antiquing."

If I would have had water in my mouth, I would have spat it out or chocked on it. Antiquing? Was that even a hobby? I couldn't wait to leave this place in our proverbial dust. Dean glanced over his shoulder at us and winked at me. I smiled broadly at him before he turned back around to the woman, "How'd you know?"

"Oh, you just look the type."

I shifted uncomfortably next to Sam, refusing to let go of his hand just because of what she said. _Look the type_, my butt.

"So…king-sized bed?" She asked us.

And I let go of Sam's hand.

All resolution gone. "No, uh…we're not. Two doubles." I tried not to shudder. It wasn't her business to say we were related and I wasn't going to explain anything to her.

She raised an eyebrow at my tightlipped explanation and nodded gently, "All right."

"What do you mean we look the type?" Dean asked.

"Speaking of antiques—" Sam interrupted moving closer to the front desk and sadly, I had to follow.

"You have a really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" Sam asked kindly.

"Oh, I have no idea—it's been there forever!" She smiled turning her attention to Dean, "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov." She handed him his credit card back and Dean gladly accepted it.

"Thanks." Dean nodded.

She reached over on the desk to ring a bell, "You'll be staying in room two-thirty seven."

I almost squeaked when I glanced behind me and saw an older, hunched shouldered butler walk past me, nodding to the woman. "Sherwin, could you show our guests to their room?"

He nodded, "Let me guess—antiquing."

And I knew laughing and hitting an old man was highly out of the question. So instead I followed behind them all as we started our trek up a creepy staircase. I didn't bother listening to Sam and Dean question the creepy butler. I was suddenly so overwhelmed by the creep factor.

I wondered if I would get sleep tonight and I already knew the damning answer. I had a ritual, every night before I would sleep; I'd sneak onto Sam's computer and look up Gordon's file at the high-security prison he was holed up in. It comforted me, seeing the letters form into words that no man could break. Logically I knew he'd never get out; realistically I knew he wouldn't come after me. But still, nightmares chased me. And still, I suffered in my own silence.


End file.
